So, they say after running a marathon you should take some time off from running - maybe 2, 3 weeks. I took more like 2, 3 months. But that's all behind me now:
Today, November 1, 2007, registration begins for the 2008 Vermont City Marathon. I signed up for the race, and the training class, Marathon 201.
Already I feel queasy.
Last spring my chip time was 5:33:41. The ultimate goal for this race is to chop off an hour and finish at 4:30:00. I've already been warned this may not be realistic. But I must have wasted 15 minutes in line for the bathroom last year, so that's a 1/4 of way. Add to that better discipline, more hills, speed workouts -- it's possible. Maybe 4:45:00 wouldn't be too bad.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Sunday, June 3, 2007
Marathon port mortem
In 490 A.D. the Greeks repelled an attack by the Persians in the Battle of Marathon. A solider named Pheidippides ran from the plains of Marathon to Athens – about 26 miles – to deliver news of the battle. Upon proclaiming the victory, he promptly fell dead. Had he been blogging about his experiences, his readers might have felt unsatisfied with that ending.
Highlights during the race
By far the best part of the day was seeing my friends and family on the race course cheering me on, going crazy at the finish line and being part of a really big accomplishment. Rounding corners and hearing my name, seeing signs and hearing their voices screaming at me before I could spot them among the other spectators – that was such a great boost.
Other memorable moments: seeing the race leaders coming at me down North Champlain Street as I was going out in the opposite direction; running neck and neck with Betty Lacharite, who later placed first in the 70-74 year old age group; at about 500 yards into the race hearing someone ask, “How you doing?” and then hearing the answer, “Really, really bad!”; running past the people eating on the outside patio at Leunig’s, toasting us with their Bloody Marys; running up Battery Hill at pace without stopping (and hearing the fanatical cheers of friends at the top of the hill); running the last loop in Waterfront Park with friends running beside me along the fenceline.
Pacing
I had estimated when I would hit certain points on the course based on a 12-minute mile and I was remarkably close to those predictions. Particularly in the first half, I was dead on my pace, and by the end I had only wavered by a few minutes. I set a slow pace, and trained at slow pace, because I was intently focused on longevity – I wasn’t certain I could last the distance (both over the five months of training, and the 26.3 miles of the race) so I went slowly and never trained or aimed for speed. The result was the slowest, most comfortable marathon imaginable. I got tired, for sure, and I felt aches, but the entire way through I felt very comfortable and certain that I would finish. Even at mile 18, in the midst of a serious rainstorm, I had a huge smile on my face.
Weather
Vermonters are fond of saying, “If you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes.” All week long and all Saturday and even Sunday morning there was a lot of speculation about whether a big fat rainstorm was going to park itself over the Champlain Valley during the race. It did.
The morning was cool and overcast – just below 60 degrees at the starting line, perfect. The first sprinkles of rain fell at 11 a.m. By 11:30 we were in a downpour – a gutters overflowing, low visibility, pruney-fingered, spectator-scattering rainstorm. For me, that lasted from about Mile 17 to Mile 20, then it eased up and disappeared.
Marathon confessional #1
When I wrote my schedule for a 12-minute pace, there was a fair bit of optimism in it. In the training schedule, there were several long runs – 18 miles, three 20-mile runs – and I completed those miles faithfully. However.... in each run, I took a break partway. It depended on the day, the weather, where I was running – but in every long run I stopped at some point to rest and stretch. And often it was not a quick stop. More like 20, 30 minutes. So when I said I would run consistently at 12-minute miles without breaks I wasn’t entirely sure I could do that. The fact that I ended up only a few minutes off pace was spectacular.
Finish Line
I felt awesome at the end of the race. A friend handed me balloons before I crossed through the finish line, arms raised in victory. The official photographer was laughing, slightly mystified that I wasn’t in paroxysms of pain and misery like the other folks finishing that late in the race. The first order of business is to stop and let the race officials snip the timing chip off your shoe, after that – smother your friends and family with sweaty, rained-on hugs and eat a lot of food. We stood and sat around in a big group having the same conversation over and over:
"I can’t believe it!”
“I know!”
(Then lots of laughing.)
The day after
About 45 minutes after finishing, I had stopped walking and rigor mortis set in - cold, stiff, not good. I live only a few clocks from the finish line, but those blocks are uphill and I was grateful that my friends drove me home. (I was less grateful that they drive a Jeep which is deceptively high off of the ground and requires a significant jump to get into the thing.) I took a hot bath, slept and continued being sore and stiff for the rest of the night.
Highlights during the race
By far the best part of the day was seeing my friends and family on the race course cheering me on, going crazy at the finish line and being part of a really big accomplishment. Rounding corners and hearing my name, seeing signs and hearing their voices screaming at me before I could spot them among the other spectators – that was such a great boost.Other memorable moments: seeing the race leaders coming at me down North Champlain Street as I was going out in the opposite direction; running neck and neck with Betty Lacharite, who later placed first in the 70-74 year old age group; at about 500 yards into the race hearing someone ask, “How you doing?” and then hearing the answer, “Really, really bad!”; running past the people eating on the outside patio at Leunig’s, toasting us with their Bloody Marys; running up Battery Hill at pace without stopping (and hearing the fanatical cheers of friends at the top of the hill); running the last loop in Waterfront Park with friends running beside me along the fenceline.
Pacing
I had estimated when I would hit certain points on the course based on a 12-minute mile and I was remarkably close to those predictions. Particularly in the first half, I was dead on my pace, and by the end I had only wavered by a few minutes. I set a slow pace, and trained at slow pace, because I was intently focused on longevity – I wasn’t certain I could last the distance (both over the five months of training, and the 26.3 miles of the race) so I went slowly and never trained or aimed for speed. The result was the slowest, most comfortable marathon imaginable. I got tired, for sure, and I felt aches, but the entire way through I felt very comfortable and certain that I would finish. Even at mile 18, in the midst of a serious rainstorm, I had a huge smile on my face.Weather
Vermonters are fond of saying, “If you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes.” All week long and all Saturday and even Sunday morning there was a lot of speculation about whether a big fat rainstorm was going to park itself over the Champlain Valley during the race. It did.
The morning was cool and overcast – just below 60 degrees at the starting line, perfect. The first sprinkles of rain fell at 11 a.m. By 11:30 we were in a downpour – a gutters overflowing, low visibility, pruney-fingered, spectator-scattering rainstorm. For me, that lasted from about Mile 17 to Mile 20, then it eased up and disappeared.
Marathon confessional #1
When I wrote my schedule for a 12-minute pace, there was a fair bit of optimism in it. In the training schedule, there were several long runs – 18 miles, three 20-mile runs – and I completed those miles faithfully. However.... in each run, I took a break partway. It depended on the day, the weather, where I was running – but in every long run I stopped at some point to rest and stretch. And often it was not a quick stop. More like 20, 30 minutes. So when I said I would run consistently at 12-minute miles without breaks I wasn’t entirely sure I could do that. The fact that I ended up only a few minutes off pace was spectacular.
Finish Line
I felt awesome at the end of the race. A friend handed me balloons before I crossed through the finish line, arms raised in victory. The official photographer was laughing, slightly mystified that I wasn’t in paroxysms of pain and misery like the other folks finishing that late in the race. The first order of business is to stop and let the race officials snip the timing chip off your shoe, after that – smother your friends and family with sweaty, rained-on hugs and eat a lot of food. We stood and sat around in a big group having the same conversation over and over:
"I can’t believe it!”
“I know!”
(Then lots of laughing.)
The day after
About 45 minutes after finishing, I had stopped walking and rigor mortis set in - cold, stiff, not good. I live only a few clocks from the finish line, but those blocks are uphill and I was grateful that my friends drove me home. (I was less grateful that they drive a Jeep which is deceptively high off of the ground and requires a significant jump to get into the thing.) I took a hot bath, slept and continued being sore and stiff for the rest of the night. The next morning, I felt not much worse than had I played rugby the previous day. In fact, I can think of particular rugby games which left me feeling much worse than the marathon did (anyone remember the
Marathon confessional #2
The training schedule had us running 5 days a week, one of them a long run. I was faithful about the long runs, but I skipped one short training run just about every week. And occasionally I skipped two short runs. I felt guilty and crappy about it, but there were some days when it just wasn’t going to happen. Most weeks I tried to make up the miles on off days, but I often shorted the total mileages I was supposed run in a given week.
Next year’s goal
The thing is, I’m not too upset that it took me 5 ½ hours to finish – I really was aiming just to finish, nothing more. But when you run that slowly, the pack thins out and you don’t feel like you’re in the middle of a big event. You feel like you’re at the tail end of a big event. Which you are. (I finished ahead of only 110 of 2,600 marathoners who started the race.)
I woke up the next morning and started punching numbers into a calculator. If I want to finish in a crowd of runners, say in 4 ½ hours, I would need to run 10 ½ minute miles. That does not seem out of reach. “Shaving off” an HOUR from your time might be an extreme goal, but I’ve already met a pretty huge challenge: I went from running 2.5 miles to finishing 26.2 miles in just 6 months.
If actually complete all of my training runs; if I work on speed, which I never have; if I cut down on the 10-15 minutes I wasted during the race in lines at the Port-o-lets; and if I’m willing to feel less comfortable during and after the race than I did this time, I think I can do it - and hopefully not become immortalized like Pheidippides.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Exultant! Triumphant! Sore!
The race is over! I ran consistently, walked only at the water stations and smiled pretty much the whole way through. My 'chip time' was close to my prediction:5:33:21
Details and photos to come - this one was taken a half-hour after crossing the finish line and eating a plateful of donuts.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Race day details
The marathon is this weekend!
Sunday, May 27, is coming fast. Several of you have asked me about where to watch the race. Let me just say that I watched the marathon for a few years, then joined relay team, and now I'm running the whole deal. So, just beware of what you're getting yourself into: this is a really fun, inspiring community event.
People to watch for
The wheelchair racers are pretty amazing. A guy runs the race every year dressed as Flash Gordon -- look for the tall guy in head-to-toe red spandex with gold lightning bolts on his head. Make sure you see the elite runners at the head of the race at least once, they are so cool to watch. At the bottom of Battery Hill the Taiko drummers are set up to provide plenty of motivation for the big climb up to Battery Park. Runners' bibs are different colors for marathoners, half-marathoners and relayers. Except for the elite runners, the bib numbers are assigned at random.
I will be wearing a dark pink t-shirt, a tan and gray baseball cap, sunglasses, and black shorts. I haven't decided yet whether to put my name on my shirt - any thoughts on that are welcome.
Logistics
About 7,600 runners will be on the race course Sunday - marathoners and relayers included. I've heard that as amany as 40,000 spectators will be out as well. Hopefully the information below will make it easier for those of you who plan to be in the city for the race:
Parking:
Do not attempt to park near the Waterfront or near Battery Park. If you can bike in, that's probably a good choice. (Secured "valet" bike parking is available at Battery Park and Waterfront Park.) Drivers should look to park near or east of downtown - the city garages on Cherry Street are a good bet. Meters will be off because it's Sunday.
Starting line:
The wheelchair racers start at 8:00 a.m. sharp. The gun for the marathon goes off at 8:05 a.m. The race starts at Battery Park, with runners facing south down Battery Street and then turning the corner onto Pearl Street. I will be around Battery Park somewhere by 7:20. The starting line will be a frenzy, but if you want to say hi before the race, you can find me for sure at the gas station on the corner of Park and Battery at 7:45 a.m. After that, I'll be lining up on Park Street for the start. Along Park Street, they'll hang signs for different paces -- I'll be up near the 12-minute pace sign.
Finish line:
The elite runners will cross the finish line around 10:30 a.m. I will not be among them. Look for me closer to 1:30 p.m. No joke.
The race course makes a big loop of Waterfront Park: it comes in from the Coast Gard station on the bike path, follows the boardwalk nearly to the Echo Center, makes a sharp left onto the grass, then loops back a 1/4 mile on the walking path to the finish line. The "infield" area created by that loop is a fun place to watch the finish, but I've heard they're going to be stricter about crowd control this year.
There will also be a large video screen set up somewhere at Waterfront Park that lists the names of runners who have finished - so if you miss the actual finish line drama, you can find me soon after.
Party:
In Burlington's tradition of every-weekend-a-festival-for- something, there should be plenty of good times in Waterfront Park for the finish line party: food, ice cream, music, tons of people laughing, crying, passing out in their aluminum blankets. I think the party goes till 3 p.m.
Where to find me during the race
These are the times you can expect me to cross through popular spectator locations. I could be late arriving at any points - especially later in the race.
8:05 a.m. STARTING LINE, Battery Park
8:40 a.m. Church Street - going uphill (Mile 3)
9:53 a.m. Church Street again - downhill (Mile 9)
10:41 a.m. Oakledge Park, south end (Mile 13)
11:05 a.m. Top of Battery Hill, Battery Park (Mile 15)
12:11 p.m. North Ave, Flynn School (Mile 20.5)
1:17 p.m. Waterfront boardwalk (Mile 26)
1:20 p.m. FINISH LINE - Waterfront Park (Mile 26.2)
The area around Battery-Church Street-Waterfront is ideal to see the runners several times without having to walk far yourself.
Helpful links:
Vermont City Marathon web site
Race course map
Race day weather from WCAX
Also!
On Saturday there's a Sports and Fitness Expo at the Sheraton - open to the public, lots of vendors giving out free stuff and some cool speakers and presentations. At 11 a.m. and 1:00 they're giving a slide show of the race course. More info
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Monday, May 14, 2007
Week 16: Taper madness
While you probably won't find this condition in the DSM, "taper madness" is a term I heard this weekend that describes the slightly frenzied condition of marathoners who don't know what to do with all the extra time on their hands. (Top ways to fill time: having paranoid thoughts of injury, and emailing people about paranoid thoughts of injury.)
Random comments from this first week of the taper:
Why taper?
Basically, you've been asking an awful lot of your bones and ligaments and muscles, and they need a break before you ask your biggest favor of them yet. About three weeks before the race the taper begins and you gradually reduce the volume of miles you're running: the number of miles you run each day, and the number of days you run each week.
Perky runners - ugh
Have you ever seen people out for a run really early in the morning, or – worse yet – late at night? You think, man – you must really be psycho about running to be out here at this hour. It's almost… annoying.
One day this week I mismanaged my day and found myself still needing to run 3 miles and it was 9 p.m. The gym closes at 9:30 – not enough time to get there and finish the run. So I put on my super-reflective light-up running vest and went for a post-sunset run around the neighborhood. The shadows cast by the streetlights and the eye-rolling folks out for a late walk made me realize what I had not even suspected: I've become one of them. Pony-tail flying, dodging under tree branches, crossing in front of traffic (it IS a crosswalk), reflective vest, annoying runner girl.
"Crash" returns
I picked up the nickname Crash several years ago after a series of spills and accidents that were astonishing for their frequency and odd circumstances. But up until this weekend, I was pleased to have survived all this training without incident – no slips on the ice, no trips in the snow, no falling off the treadmill (which I did once, years ago; not pretty.)
Yesterday, I totally ate it while running on a dirt recreation path. The palms of my hands are red and scratched, but otherwise no damage. My first instinct was to laugh, but I realized quickly that it sounded like crying and it worried the passersby who just watched me face plant with limbs akimbo across a gravel path. I got up quickly with a round of, "I'm ok! I'm ok!" and kept running, a little embarrassed. The walkers pointed accusingly at rock submerged in the middle of the path. I expect the town will hear about that.
Coincidentally, I got this quote in my email today, one of the daily inspirational running quotes sent by a Marathon 101 classmate:
“Our greatest glory consists not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.” Ralph Waldo Emerson
Random comments from this first week of the taper:
Why taper?
Basically, you've been asking an awful lot of your bones and ligaments and muscles, and they need a break before you ask your biggest favor of them yet. About three weeks before the race the taper begins and you gradually reduce the volume of miles you're running: the number of miles you run each day, and the number of days you run each week.
Perky runners - ugh
Have you ever seen people out for a run really early in the morning, or – worse yet – late at night? You think, man – you must really be psycho about running to be out here at this hour. It's almost… annoying.
One day this week I mismanaged my day and found myself still needing to run 3 miles and it was 9 p.m. The gym closes at 9:30 – not enough time to get there and finish the run. So I put on my super-reflective light-up running vest and went for a post-sunset run around the neighborhood. The shadows cast by the streetlights and the eye-rolling folks out for a late walk made me realize what I had not even suspected: I've become one of them. Pony-tail flying, dodging under tree branches, crossing in front of traffic (it IS a crosswalk), reflective vest, annoying runner girl.
"Crash" returns
I picked up the nickname Crash several years ago after a series of spills and accidents that were astonishing for their frequency and odd circumstances. But up until this weekend, I was pleased to have survived all this training without incident – no slips on the ice, no trips in the snow, no falling off the treadmill (which I did once, years ago; not pretty.)
Yesterday, I totally ate it while running on a dirt recreation path. The palms of my hands are red and scratched, but otherwise no damage. My first instinct was to laugh, but I realized quickly that it sounded like crying and it worried the passersby who just watched me face plant with limbs akimbo across a gravel path. I got up quickly with a round of, "I'm ok! I'm ok!" and kept running, a little embarrassed. The walkers pointed accusingly at rock submerged in the middle of the path. I expect the town will hear about that.
Coincidentally, I got this quote in my email today, one of the daily inspirational running quotes sent by a Marathon 101 classmate:
“Our greatest glory consists not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.” Ralph Waldo Emerson
Sunday, May 6, 2007
Week 15: The last really long run
The 18-week training plan hit its peak this weekend, with the last of the three 20-mile runs. From here on, I run fewer miles each week until race day. And I'm thrilled and relieved to say that today's 20-mile run went very, very well:
Running the course
My intention today was to run the first 20 miles of the race course and to make it a pretty realistic dress rehearsal. I woke at 6:15 a.m., ate a breakfast of protein and carbs, got my stuff together, sipped from a glass of water, took a light nap. I walked from my apartment to the starting line a few blocks away, met a friend who is running the first legs of the relay, and we took off running just after 8:00 a.m.
Around mile 4 or 5, the course goes out on a highway, but seeing as how traffic isn't stopped for people in training as it is on race day, we went out a parallel road and approximated the distance. I only knew for sure that we overshot the distance when I plotted it online when I got home.
We parted ways when her part of the relay was over, and I kept going out to the south part of town. Runners were everywhere! Today was cool, sunny and perfect for all of us who getting in our last long run. Coming back up north on the bike path was challenging, with a strong wind coming off the lake. Even though the sun was bright, I felt so cold in some of those stretches - my fingers were white, red and swollen, and the sweat dried on my arms in salty, grimy streaks.
I passed through the halfway point and headed toward Battery Hill, which the big hill of the course. I needed to stop and stretch and I debated whether I should stop at the bottom of the hill, or push through to the top. I did make it to the top of Battery - though my run slowed to a jog to nearly a walk - and I took advantage of the public bathroom at the police station in Battery Park.
I continued north, knowing I only had 4 miles left to go and they really much better than I expected. Remembering how hard those final 5 were in my last 20 miler in San Diego, I kept a running pep talk in my head, and kept my head down, and just kept chugging along. At some points i realized I got distracted from convincing myself to keep going and realized that I just running without thinking too much about it. it actually wasn't that bad, this long run. I had picked a turn-around point in one of the neighborhoods and I knew I was close when I got there. I did have to resume the, 'don't you dare stop, you're doing fine' speech. I started thinking about what the next three weeks of tapering will be like, and adopted a nicely alliterative phrase to keep going: stretch, sustenance, sleep, speed - this is what I intend to focus on for the next three weeks, and I think I'll do just fine.
The numbers
So it turns out that today's planned 20 miles were in fact 21.2 miles. I love that .2! This was a purely accidental but auspicious distance: I just need to scrape, crawl and hurl myself 5 more miles and I'm at the finish line.
The run took me about 4 1/2 hours, which is slow, but fine. If I work really hard and adrenaline works its magic, I might finish the race in 5 1/2 hours.
Running the course
My intention today was to run the first 20 miles of the race course and to make it a pretty realistic dress rehearsal. I woke at 6:15 a.m., ate a breakfast of protein and carbs, got my stuff together, sipped from a glass of water, took a light nap. I walked from my apartment to the starting line a few blocks away, met a friend who is running the first legs of the relay, and we took off running just after 8:00 a.m.
Around mile 4 or 5, the course goes out on a highway, but seeing as how traffic isn't stopped for people in training as it is on race day, we went out a parallel road and approximated the distance. I only knew for sure that we overshot the distance when I plotted it online when I got home.
We parted ways when her part of the relay was over, and I kept going out to the south part of town. Runners were everywhere! Today was cool, sunny and perfect for all of us who getting in our last long run. Coming back up north on the bike path was challenging, with a strong wind coming off the lake. Even though the sun was bright, I felt so cold in some of those stretches - my fingers were white, red and swollen, and the sweat dried on my arms in salty, grimy streaks.
I passed through the halfway point and headed toward Battery Hill, which the big hill of the course. I needed to stop and stretch and I debated whether I should stop at the bottom of the hill, or push through to the top. I did make it to the top of Battery - though my run slowed to a jog to nearly a walk - and I took advantage of the public bathroom at the police station in Battery Park.
I continued north, knowing I only had 4 miles left to go and they really much better than I expected. Remembering how hard those final 5 were in my last 20 miler in San Diego, I kept a running pep talk in my head, and kept my head down, and just kept chugging along. At some points i realized I got distracted from convincing myself to keep going and realized that I just running without thinking too much about it. it actually wasn't that bad, this long run. I had picked a turn-around point in one of the neighborhoods and I knew I was close when I got there. I did have to resume the, 'don't you dare stop, you're doing fine' speech. I started thinking about what the next three weeks of tapering will be like, and adopted a nicely alliterative phrase to keep going: stretch, sustenance, sleep, speed - this is what I intend to focus on for the next three weeks, and I think I'll do just fine.
The numbers
So it turns out that today's planned 20 miles were in fact 21.2 miles. I love that .2! This was a purely accidental but auspicious distance: I just need to scrape, crawl and hurl myself 5 more miles and I'm at the finish line.
The run took me about 4 1/2 hours, which is slow, but fine. If I work really hard and adrenaline works its magic, I might finish the race in 5 1/2 hours.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Week 14: But it's dry heat
I spent most of Week 14 at a spa in Arizona, where the temperature was in the 90s and I added to my sunburn. Despite my intention of getting up early to beat the heat, I ran most of my miles in really hot weather. I kept thinking about last year's Vermont marathon when it was well into the 80's and the runners were dropping like flies. What are the chances the weather will be unseasonably hot again? Hmmm...
Spa benefits for runners:
First, as I explained (somewhat defensively) to a group of friends, I don't go to spas as a regular habit. I'm taken to spas by my mom, to whom I'm grateful. And since this one was a health and fitness spa, it was the perfect tune-up one month before the race:
An exercise physiologist told me I'm doing everything right. Just the answer I was looking for! He also told me to eat more during the race - 300 calories an hour, at least twice what I've been eating.
Massage therapists are wonderful, wonderful people.
The cold dip: this is an excruciating, supposedly healthful tank of 40-degree water. After 10 miles in blistering heat - and more hills than I was expecting - I resolved to stay immersed in this cold hell for 1 minute. At 40 seconds I started to question what permanent nerve damage felt like and whether I really would recognize the warning signs.
Spa benefits for runners:
First, as I explained (somewhat defensively) to a group of friends, I don't go to spas as a regular habit. I'm taken to spas by my mom, to whom I'm grateful. And since this one was a health and fitness spa, it was the perfect tune-up one month before the race:
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Week 13: Best run yet!
Tuesday: 6 miles
Wednesday: 5 miles
Thursday: 4 miles
Saturday: 3.5 miles
Sunday: 3 miles, extreme hills
Monday: 20 miles!
On Saturday, I flew to San Diego to begin a 10-day California-Arizona vacation. I changed the schedule for the long run so that I wouldn't be battling jet lag, dehydration and the forecasted rain (in San Diego? hellooooo??). Instead of a long run on Sunday, I ran a grueling 3 miles in my parents' neighborhood. You will accuse me of hyperbole, but a USGS topo map will bear me out: the roads around here are steep enough to make you wonder what kind of ordinances govern how steep a road is allowed to be. At the one point I was summoning my high school geometry skills to gauge the pitch of the trail. My best guess is 60 degrees, backed up by the fact that at one point I could reach forward with my hand and touch the path in front of me. So I figured 3 miles of that is plenty.
The big news this week was yesterday's 20 mile run -- the second of three 20 milers. The first 20-mile attempt was in Burlington two weeks ago, in the freezing cold. I ended up running the last 7 miles on a treadmill, after my knees had stiffened up and only determination was keeping me going.
This time, I had the San Diego's famously perfect weather back on my side. I ran at Mission Bay Park, using a route I found from the San Diego Track Club. I ran the first 15 miles pretty consistently at a 12-minute pace, which is really the best I can hope for. I stopped a few times to fish Gu packets out of my pockets and to check my map, but there was no walking. As the boredom set in I got a welcome boost from a running coach with whom I crossed paths a few times. He slowed (waaay) down to chat for awhile and gave me some encouragement and a few Gu packets.
The last five miles were an out-and-back stretch on the boardwalk of Mission Beach. I wanted to stop at a friend's house to add ice to my CamelBak (the Gatorade had warmed in the sun... not refreshing....) but she wasn't home. Unfortunately, this pause in motion was just enough to give my knees a chance to mutiny against this forced labor. It was tough to get going again, even after a good stretch. I probably walked 1.5 of the last 5 miles and slowed down my overall time pretty dramatically.
I was feeling a little defeated as I chugged the last yards to the parking lot: I still have 6.1 miles till the real finish line. But that is five weeks away and this 20 miles was better than the last; and I still have one more 20-mile run to go. And seriously, running 18.5 miles and walking the rest is pretty amazing!
I mentioned it was warm enough that my Gatorade started tasting nasty. I had two weather missteps in this run that I can only blame on having trained all winter in Vermont, where the focus in on staying warm and having enough mittens, neck gators, etc to wipe away the frozen snot and tears from your face. Not so in San Diego.
When I started in the morning, it was pretty cool and very windy. As I stood stretching in the parking lot at the beach, I felt really chilled. I should have thought it through more logically but that "must not get cold!" reflex convinced me to keep a long-sleeved shirt and long pants on over my t-shirt and shorts. It only took a couple of miles before I started wondering where I could ditch my clothes that I might be able to collect them on the way back. I spent some time wondering which of the many hotels in the area wouldn't mind if a sweaty runner came in and asked to leave her clothes with the reception desk. I finally decided on neatly folding them and leaving them among the shrubs at a hotel entrance. I figured if someone found my clothes intentionally placed in the mulch they might a) leave them alone or b) turn them in to lost and found. The scenario which I was willing risk in the accumulating heat was c) a homeless person might become their new owner. This is what the concierge concluded when I explained the situation later in the afternoon. She also recommended that, next time, I should come in ask to leave my clothes at the desk.
So, I ran for hours in short sleeves and shorts under the warm sun at the beach. And did I think about sunscreen? No, I did not think about sunscreen. I explained to my friends who live here that I haven't worn sunscreen since August - it just wasn't on my runner's check list. "Huh, I wear sunscreen every day," one of them volunteered. So I'm now sporting bright red, warm patches of skin on my calves and arms. It's really attractive. Interestingly, the sunburn has been the worst of the day-after discomfort. I was really sore last night, and this morning at first. My muscles and joints feel pretty good now, only 24 hours later, but the sunburn.... Sadly, the next stop on my vacation is a spa in Arizona where I had planned to enjoy deep-tissue massages. Ow!
Wednesday: 5 miles
Thursday: 4 miles
Saturday: 3.5 miles
Sunday: 3 miles, extreme hills
Monday: 20 miles!
On Saturday, I flew to San Diego to begin a 10-day California-Arizona vacation. I changed the schedule for the long run so that I wouldn't be battling jet lag, dehydration and the forecasted rain (in San Diego? hellooooo??). Instead of a long run on Sunday, I ran a grueling 3 miles in my parents' neighborhood. You will accuse me of hyperbole, but a USGS topo map will bear me out: the roads around here are steep enough to make you wonder what kind of ordinances govern how steep a road is allowed to be. At the one point I was summoning my high school geometry skills to gauge the pitch of the trail. My best guess is 60 degrees, backed up by the fact that at one point I could reach forward with my hand and touch the path in front of me. So I figured 3 miles of that is plenty.
The big news this week was yesterday's 20 mile run -- the second of three 20 milers. The first 20-mile attempt was in Burlington two weeks ago, in the freezing cold. I ended up running the last 7 miles on a treadmill, after my knees had stiffened up and only determination was keeping me going.
This time, I had the San Diego's famously perfect weather back on my side. I ran at Mission Bay Park, using a route I found from the San Diego Track Club. I ran the first 15 miles pretty consistently at a 12-minute pace, which is really the best I can hope for. I stopped a few times to fish Gu packets out of my pockets and to check my map, but there was no walking. As the boredom set in I got a welcome boost from a running coach with whom I crossed paths a few times. He slowed (waaay) down to chat for awhile and gave me some encouragement and a few Gu packets.
The last five miles were an out-and-back stretch on the boardwalk of Mission Beach. I wanted to stop at a friend's house to add ice to my CamelBak (the Gatorade had warmed in the sun... not refreshing....) but she wasn't home. Unfortunately, this pause in motion was just enough to give my knees a chance to mutiny against this forced labor. It was tough to get going again, even after a good stretch. I probably walked 1.5 of the last 5 miles and slowed down my overall time pretty dramatically.
I was feeling a little defeated as I chugged the last yards to the parking lot: I still have 6.1 miles till the real finish line. But that is five weeks away and this 20 miles was better than the last; and I still have one more 20-mile run to go. And seriously, running 18.5 miles and walking the rest is pretty amazing!
I mentioned it was warm enough that my Gatorade started tasting nasty. I had two weather missteps in this run that I can only blame on having trained all winter in Vermont, where the focus in on staying warm and having enough mittens, neck gators, etc to wipe away the frozen snot and tears from your face. Not so in San Diego.
When I started in the morning, it was pretty cool and very windy. As I stood stretching in the parking lot at the beach, I felt really chilled. I should have thought it through more logically but that "must not get cold!" reflex convinced me to keep a long-sleeved shirt and long pants on over my t-shirt and shorts. It only took a couple of miles before I started wondering where I could ditch my clothes that I might be able to collect them on the way back. I spent some time wondering which of the many hotels in the area wouldn't mind if a sweaty runner came in and asked to leave her clothes with the reception desk. I finally decided on neatly folding them and leaving them among the shrubs at a hotel entrance. I figured if someone found my clothes intentionally placed in the mulch they might a) leave them alone or b) turn them in to lost and found. The scenario which I was willing risk in the accumulating heat was c) a homeless person might become their new owner. This is what the concierge concluded when I explained the situation later in the afternoon. She also recommended that, next time, I should come in ask to leave my clothes at the desk.
So, I ran for hours in short sleeves and shorts under the warm sun at the beach. And did I think about sunscreen? No, I did not think about sunscreen. I explained to my friends who live here that I haven't worn sunscreen since August - it just wasn't on my runner's check list. "Huh, I wear sunscreen every day," one of them volunteered. So I'm now sporting bright red, warm patches of skin on my calves and arms. It's really attractive. Interestingly, the sunburn has been the worst of the day-after discomfort. I was really sore last night, and this morning at first. My muscles and joints feel pretty good now, only 24 hours later, but the sunburn.... Sadly, the next stop on my vacation is a spa in Arizona where I had planned to enjoy deep-tissue massages. Ow!
Week 12: wha--?
Ok, so I let the blog slide. I know I got in my miles during this week, but I don't have much to say about it.
I do remember the long run was 14 miles and the weather was miserable. A friend ran with me with for the first 7. If you know Burlington, let's hear your collective groan of sympathy for the fact that we ran through the deceptively hilly South End and all the way up through the Hill Section to the hospital. And, it was raining. Not just raining, but that magical, really cold rain that weather forecasters around here call a "wintry mix." It was totally un-fun. I ran the remaining 7 miles on a treadmill, watching the sleet turn to real snow. And yes, it is April.
That's all I remember of Week 12.
I do remember the long run was 14 miles and the weather was miserable. A friend ran with me with for the first 7. If you know Burlington, let's hear your collective groan of sympathy for the fact that we ran through the deceptively hilly South End and all the way up through the Hill Section to the hospital. And, it was raining. Not just raining, but that magical, really cold rain that weather forecasters around here call a "wintry mix." It was totally un-fun. I ran the remaining 7 miles on a treadmill, watching the sleet turn to real snow. And yes, it is April.
That's all I remember of Week 12.
Sunday, April 8, 2007
50 days to go
Thanks to a daily countdown started by a Marathon 101 classmate, I can report that 50 days stand between now and race day.
This weekend was the first of three 20-mile runs on the training schedule. A low-key halfmarathon was held on Saturday and it was the best 13.1 miles I've run yet. I kept a consistent pace and didn't stop or walk at all -- that's a first! I was slow as molasses (2:36 was my time) but pretty thrilled.
The plan was to run an additional 7 miles right after the race, but I took an ill-fated break at the finish line. It was 35 degrees out and I went inside to stretch and clean up a bit. But when I walked out the door, my sweaty clothes turned freezing and I couldn't stand the idea of being outside any longer.
A super accommodating friend drove me back to my car at the start line and I went to the gym to run the last 7 miles on a treadmill. This was a plan that high in purpose and determination, but lame in execution. Literally lame. My knees had long since decided they were not interested in bending any more today and I hobbled through the last 7 miles in a funky run-walk gait.
Lesson learned: do not stop moving, you may not start up again.
Marathon prognosis
I feel certain I will finish the marathon. It may not be pretty, but I know I can do it. I don't have any injuries emerging (knock, knock) and I have the endurance. My legs aren't as strong as they should be and that's the biggest hindrance. But, I have 50 days to shape up and get a little faster. I think I can finish under 5 hrs 30 min but I'd really like to be closer to 5 hours.
This weekend was the first of three 20-mile runs on the training schedule. A low-key halfmarathon was held on Saturday and it was the best 13.1 miles I've run yet. I kept a consistent pace and didn't stop or walk at all -- that's a first! I was slow as molasses (2:36 was my time) but pretty thrilled.
The plan was to run an additional 7 miles right after the race, but I took an ill-fated break at the finish line. It was 35 degrees out and I went inside to stretch and clean up a bit. But when I walked out the door, my sweaty clothes turned freezing and I couldn't stand the idea of being outside any longer.
A super accommodating friend drove me back to my car at the start line and I went to the gym to run the last 7 miles on a treadmill. This was a plan that high in purpose and determination, but lame in execution. Literally lame. My knees had long since decided they were not interested in bending any more today and I hobbled through the last 7 miles in a funky run-walk gait.
Lesson learned: do not stop moving, you may not start up again.
Marathon prognosis
I feel certain I will finish the marathon. It may not be pretty, but I know I can do it. I don't have any injuries emerging (knock, knock) and I have the endurance. My legs aren't as strong as they should be and that's the biggest hindrance. But, I have 50 days to shape up and get a little faster. I think I can finish under 5 hrs 30 min but I'd really like to be closer to 5 hours.
Friday, April 6, 2007
Week 11: I am totally hard core!
Tuesday: 2 miles
Wednesday: 5 miles
Thursday: 5 miles
Saturday: half-marathon plus 7 miles
This weekend there's a ½ marathon race in town and I'm signed up for it, along with several other 101ers. The training schedule calls for 20 miles, but our trainer adjusted things to accommodate this race. But no, we won't accept the offer of fewer miles, less burden, more rest. No, we will ADD seven miles to the end of the race. You can trick your mind into seeing this as not a big deal. So you finish 13 miles – you know you can do 13, so that's no problem. Then you just back track 3 ½ miles – a mere 3 ½, which really isn't that far. And then you just turn yourself around and head for the finish line a second time – it's only 3 ½ miles away, and that's nothing compared to what you've already done today.
I picked up my race packet for tomorrow's 1/2 marathon and I started to feel excited about the event: the bright yellow plasticky bib (#94) is what really did it.
Wednesday: 5 miles
Thursday: 5 miles
Saturday: half-marathon plus 7 miles
This weekend there's a ½ marathon race in town and I'm signed up for it, along with several other 101ers. The training schedule calls for 20 miles, but our trainer adjusted things to accommodate this race. But no, we won't accept the offer of fewer miles, less burden, more rest. No, we will ADD seven miles to the end of the race. You can trick your mind into seeing this as not a big deal. So you finish 13 miles – you know you can do 13, so that's no problem. Then you just back track 3 ½ miles – a mere 3 ½, which really isn't that far. And then you just turn yourself around and head for the finish line a second time – it's only 3 ½ miles away, and that's nothing compared to what you've already done today.
I picked up my race packet for tomorrow's 1/2 marathon and I started to feel excited about the event: the bright yellow plasticky bib (#94) is what really did it.
Week 10 – Slacker's late post
My Internet connection (that I 'borrow' from my neighbors) has been unreliable and I haven't posted in awhile. But all is well in land of running:
A good portion of the marathon is run on the bike path at the shoreline of Lake Champlain. One the snow is gone and the ice melted, the bike path is an ideal place to run – picturesque, mostly flat, some shade, some sun. But even as the weather has returned the bike path to usefulness, I've avoided running on it. There's some kind of bad luck mental block I'm having about running on parts of the actual race course. On race day, when I get to the turnoff for Leddy Beach, I don't want to have a memory of how far away Waterfront Park still is.
But last weekend, for lack of other ideas on where to run, I hit the bike path. On Saturday, I ran from Union Station to Leddy Beach and back. The gentle uphill on the way out really dragged me down. I mean, I know I can run 2.5 miles, but I was really working to remind myself of this when I got to Leddy Beach. The way back, much easier.
Sunday was a "shorter" long run – only 12 miles. My intention was to practice the getting-up-eat-breakfast routine, but I wasn't entirely successful. I got up early (6:30) and ate breakfast (toast, peanut butter, egg, fruit, cottage cheese) and then instead of stretching and waiting a bit, I fell asleep until 10 o'clock. I didn't want to miss a lunch that friend was having for her baby's baptism, so that pushed the run into the late afternoon. Not a bad plan, but I wanted to be done before the promised rainstorm came across the lake.
I struck out from my apartment through downtown and out to the New North End -- way, way out to where the neighborhoods end and the river crosses underneath the bike path. I stopped here for minute to futz with my iPod and ran into an acquaintance. This was a huge boost of encouragement because I had always thought of him as really athletic and he was pretty certain that he couldn't run a 7-mile relay leg of the marathon, let along the whole thing. And I was pretty proud to drop the fact that in January I could run just barely 4 miles, and just a week ago I pounded out 18 miles. Not bad!
I turned back down the bike toward home and made it to my doorstep as the first raindrops fell. It wasn't my intention, but this 12 mile run followed the last 12 miles of the race course almost exactly. I'm getting to be a big fan of the idea of running the course and getting to know it. Maybe it won't seem so endless if I know how far it is from this tree to the next turn.
A good portion of the marathon is run on the bike path at the shoreline of Lake Champlain. One the snow is gone and the ice melted, the bike path is an ideal place to run – picturesque, mostly flat, some shade, some sun. But even as the weather has returned the bike path to usefulness, I've avoided running on it. There's some kind of bad luck mental block I'm having about running on parts of the actual race course. On race day, when I get to the turnoff for Leddy Beach, I don't want to have a memory of how far away Waterfront Park still is.
But last weekend, for lack of other ideas on where to run, I hit the bike path. On Saturday, I ran from Union Station to Leddy Beach and back. The gentle uphill on the way out really dragged me down. I mean, I know I can run 2.5 miles, but I was really working to remind myself of this when I got to Leddy Beach. The way back, much easier.
Sunday was a "shorter" long run – only 12 miles. My intention was to practice the getting-up-eat-breakfast routine, but I wasn't entirely successful. I got up early (6:30) and ate breakfast (toast, peanut butter, egg, fruit, cottage cheese) and then instead of stretching and waiting a bit, I fell asleep until 10 o'clock. I didn't want to miss a lunch that friend was having for her baby's baptism, so that pushed the run into the late afternoon. Not a bad plan, but I wanted to be done before the promised rainstorm came across the lake.
I struck out from my apartment through downtown and out to the New North End -- way, way out to where the neighborhoods end and the river crosses underneath the bike path. I stopped here for minute to futz with my iPod and ran into an acquaintance. This was a huge boost of encouragement because I had always thought of him as really athletic and he was pretty certain that he couldn't run a 7-mile relay leg of the marathon, let along the whole thing. And I was pretty proud to drop the fact that in January I could run just barely 4 miles, and just a week ago I pounded out 18 miles. Not bad!
I turned back down the bike toward home and made it to my doorstep as the first raindrops fell. It wasn't my intention, but this 12 mile run followed the last 12 miles of the race course almost exactly. I'm getting to be a big fan of the idea of running the course and getting to know it. Maybe it won't seem so endless if I know how far it is from this tree to the next turn.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Week 9: "The knee bone's connected to the hip bone…" and thoughts on paranoia
Tuesday: 4 miles
Wednesday: 4 miles
Sunday: 18 miles
During Week 8 I blew off some training and worried about my knees instead. This week, I fulfilled the training schedule (mostly) and I saw a physical therapist who gave me just the answer I was looking for: my knees aren't injured, I'm just out of shape. Or, more specifically, my legs aren't used to pounding out mile after mile all week long. So that's good news. I've just got to convince the tendons in my knees to relax and get with program - lots of stretching, heating pads, more stretching.
So when I set out yesterday for the 18 mile run, I felt reassured that I wasn't exactly doing damage to myself, and that the rickety, crippled feeling that would develop over the course of the run was "normal."
It's hip to be crooked
The new (and therefore, alarming) problem that developed during the run and continues now, the day after, is a dull ache in my left hip. I have heard runners and therapists speak in hushed whispers about dreaded "IT band" problems and the race-ending calamity that rains down on someone afflicted with them. I've also heard that a common symptom is pain in the hip. There's a muscle on your hip that attaches to a tendon that runs on the outside of your thigh and connects to the knee. That long tendon is called the iliotibial band, and the muscle at the top of it is bugging me.
I spent about two weeks debating whether to see the physical therapist, during which I questioned what I was feeling in my knees: is this pain? Discomfort? Is there a difference? If there's no "pain" but it doesn't feel right, is that still bad? I mean, I ran 16 miles, I'm going to feel something. When I finally went to see him, I wondered if I waited too long. Like when you hear stories that end with someone shaking their head, "If only we caught it sooner…" But in my case, the therapist told me that I wasn't injured, I'm just not used to this level of activity and that I didn't need to set up a schedule of appointments. This is the best news you can get from a doctor whose business depends on your repeat visits.
It takes hours for me to run 18 miles. That's a lot of time for your mind to wander, regardless of what's playing on your iPod. When my hip started to feel sore I went through the same mental acrobatics as I did with my knee: what is this? Is this anything? You start to over-analyze the slightest twinge and wonder at the possibilities of injury that are hidden within it.
I'm definitely glad I saw my chiropractor this morning. I instantly felt looser and limped less on the way out the door than I did on my way in. Now that I've glimpsed the harbinger of injury it will be harder to keep judge what really going on in my bones, and what's actually just in my head.
PS:
The 18 mile run (no typo there, eighteen miles) went well enough. I took a long break halfway through and sat in the sun to stretch. The snow is melting away and revealing random detritus from the fall. The ice on the river is breaking into big chunks and getting jammed up in some places. That was one of the best distractions of this run: the screeching, scraping sounds of ice, and the bubbling, rushing waterfalls where the river found space to break free from the ice. I also saw my first caterpillar of the spring – a fuzzy brown and black little guy stuck in the mud tracks of the dirt road. I didn't mind using his welfare as an excuse to stop for a minute and enjoy the afternoon.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Week 8: Slippery slope, also a powdery one
Tues-Thurs: 0 miles
Friday: 5 miles
Saturday: 4 miles
Sunday: skiing!
Since training began in January, every week added more miles and longer long runs up until last weekend, the 16 miler. This past week provided a respite - the long run was scheduled to be merely 12 miles, and I looked forward to that break.
And, boy, did I need it. My knees felt weak and tired after the 16-mile run 8 days ago, and then life got in the way of running during the work. (My guniea pig got sick, I had to make a last-minute trip across the state for work, blah, blah, blah). I figured, if there's a week in the 5-month training schedule to let things slide, this is a good one to choose.
I tried to get back on track by running on Friday (a day off) and running a little extra on Saturday. I spent Saturday night at a ski condo with a fabulous group of friends (I hope you're all reading this) and was pretty easily talked into skiing instead of running on Sunday. "It'll be a great workout for your legs!" they claimed. True, but I'm not skiing the marathon, I'm running it. All the same, we had an excellent time in the freshly fallen foot+ of snow that came with this weekend's storm.
It actually never stopped snowing the entire weekend up there on the mountain. Hello, it's MARCH already! This morning's forecast called for an "Arctic blast of cold air." Awesome. My plan to start running outside in March may be pushed back to April...
This coming week I've got to be disciplined: Sunday calls for 18 miles, and I need to run 17 miles in the days between now and then. I might call a physical therapist for knee advice - I can't tell if this is a normal tired out feeling or a harbinger of injury.
Friday: 5 miles
Saturday: 4 miles
Sunday: skiing!
Since training began in January, every week added more miles and longer long runs up until last weekend, the 16 miler. This past week provided a respite - the long run was scheduled to be merely 12 miles, and I looked forward to that break.
And, boy, did I need it. My knees felt weak and tired after the 16-mile run 8 days ago, and then life got in the way of running during the work. (My guniea pig got sick, I had to make a last-minute trip across the state for work, blah, blah, blah). I figured, if there's a week in the 5-month training schedule to let things slide, this is a good one to choose.
I tried to get back on track by running on Friday (a day off) and running a little extra on Saturday. I spent Saturday night at a ski condo with a fabulous group of friends (I hope you're all reading this) and was pretty easily talked into skiing instead of running on Sunday. "It'll be a great workout for your legs!" they claimed. True, but I'm not skiing the marathon, I'm running it. All the same, we had an excellent time in the freshly fallen foot+ of snow that came with this weekend's storm.
It actually never stopped snowing the entire weekend up there on the mountain. Hello, it's MARCH already! This morning's forecast called for an "Arctic blast of cold air." Awesome. My plan to start running outside in March may be pushed back to April...
This coming week I've got to be disciplined: Sunday calls for 18 miles, and I need to run 17 miles in the days between now and then. I might call a physical therapist for knee advice - I can't tell if this is a normal tired out feeling or a harbinger of injury.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Week 7: Weak in the knees
Tuesday: 2 miles
Wednesday: 5 miles
Thursday: 4 miles
Sunday: 16 miles
Long live the republic
Tuesday was Town Meeting Day, the annual demonstration of civic virtue when people gather in elementary school cafeterias and town halls to elect new town officers and debate whether the town really needs to buy a new fire truck. New comers think of it as a quaint and tidy throwback to a Norman Rockwell yesteryear; old timers know it for being a day of spirited (sometimes boring) debate and occasional hurt feelings. It's a day I look forward to but this year it left me with enough time for only for a two-mile run.
Listening recomendation
Wednesday and Thursday my time management skills lapsed and I did both runs late at night. On Thursday while I ran, I listened to wonderful radio program from WNYC, "Studio 360." This episode was from their series, "American Icons" and it explored the history and cultural symbolism of the Lincoln Memorial. Long after my run was finished, I was still stretching and listening to stories about architectural meltdowns, public hatred of Lincoln before his death and the decades that intervened before the memorial was built. (Studio 360's American Icons program on Moby Dick was also fantastic. I actually wanted to read the book after hearing that show.)
About the knees
All week long my knees have felt creaky and grouchy. Walking up stairs, standing up after a movie -- these movements have my knees grumbling for attention. I don't think there's anything actually wrong with them, they're just being whiners. "Suck it up!" I tell them. I hope they listen, especially on Sunday.
The long run: 16 miles
I decided to prepare for this run in a more thoughtful way that I have approached the recent long runs. All day on Saturday I'm going to eat really healthy, nutrient-rich meals. I'm going to bed really early and waking up early enough to eat breakfast and digest it before I set on the run at 9:30 a.m. This is the plan. We shall see.
16 miles - check that off the list
It wasn't easy, or particularly fun, but I did it! The plan was realized (despite a little Daylight Saving confusion) -- I ate a good breakfast, fell back asleep, got up and ran. The course was charted out by a fellow Marathon 101-er; it was hillier and she was faster than I was accustomed to, but I finished about 20 minutes behind her. Several hours later, my knees are really stiff, but not in pain exactly. I think I'll spend tomorrow's day off stretching and icing. It's also time to buy a second pair of running shoes to break in over the next several weeks.
Wednesday: 5 miles
Thursday: 4 miles
Sunday: 16 miles
Long live the republic
Tuesday was Town Meeting Day, the annual demonstration of civic virtue when people gather in elementary school cafeterias and town halls to elect new town officers and debate whether the town really needs to buy a new fire truck. New comers think of it as a quaint and tidy throwback to a Norman Rockwell yesteryear; old timers know it for being a day of spirited (sometimes boring) debate and occasional hurt feelings. It's a day I look forward to but this year it left me with enough time for only for a two-mile run.
Listening recomendation
Wednesday and Thursday my time management skills lapsed and I did both runs late at night. On Thursday while I ran, I listened to wonderful radio program from WNYC, "Studio 360." This episode was from their series, "American Icons" and it explored the history and cultural symbolism of the Lincoln Memorial. Long after my run was finished, I was still stretching and listening to stories about architectural meltdowns, public hatred of Lincoln before his death and the decades that intervened before the memorial was built. (Studio 360's American Icons program on Moby Dick was also fantastic. I actually wanted to read the book after hearing that show.)
About the knees
All week long my knees have felt creaky and grouchy. Walking up stairs, standing up after a movie -- these movements have my knees grumbling for attention. I don't think there's anything actually wrong with them, they're just being whiners. "Suck it up!" I tell them. I hope they listen, especially on Sunday.
The long run: 16 miles
I decided to prepare for this run in a more thoughtful way that I have approached the recent long runs. All day on Saturday I'm going to eat really healthy, nutrient-rich meals. I'm going to bed really early and waking up early enough to eat breakfast and digest it before I set on the run at 9:30 a.m. This is the plan. We shall see.
16 miles - check that off the list
It wasn't easy, or particularly fun, but I did it! The plan was realized (despite a little Daylight Saving confusion) -- I ate a good breakfast, fell back asleep, got up and ran. The course was charted out by a fellow Marathon 101-er; it was hillier and she was faster than I was accustomed to, but I finished about 20 minutes behind her. Several hours later, my knees are really stiff, but not in pain exactly. I think I'll spend tomorrow's day off stretching and icing. It's also time to buy a second pair of running shoes to break in over the next several weeks.
Monday, March 5, 2007
What I'm learning - Part 2
The bad news first
The 14 miles I ran last weekend took 3 hours and a few minutes to complete. This is not a good time. If I run this pace in the marathon, I won't be meeting my dreamed-of but not-worried-over goal of 5 hours. It'll be closer to 6 hours, and that seems just sad. Not to mention hot - it'll be 2 p.m. by the time I cross the finish line.
Ah - but the GOOD news
I ran a half-marathon! In November, when this time-sucking, energy-draining, nutrition-baffling endeavor was but a gleam in my eye, that was my entire goal: to run a half-marathon. Not only have I done that (and few months earlier than my goal) but I've demonstrated a principle that can be observed everywhere you look: whatever energy a task requires, is the amount of energy you'll have to complete it. However much time something needs, is how much time you'll find to give for it.
I could have chosen to run half the race in May, and I would have trained for those 13 miles. I would have worried over it, planned for it, worked at - and I might have believed it that those 13 miles was the biggest goal I could possibly accomplish. I might have believed it and lived it and finished the race and been very, very, very pleased. Instead, I will go through the same thoughts, the same worrying, the same planning - only for a much bigger goal.
The 14 miles I ran last weekend took 3 hours and a few minutes to complete. This is not a good time. If I run this pace in the marathon, I won't be meeting my dreamed-of but not-worried-over goal of 5 hours. It'll be closer to 6 hours, and that seems just sad. Not to mention hot - it'll be 2 p.m. by the time I cross the finish line.
Ah - but the GOOD news
I ran a half-marathon! In November, when this time-sucking, energy-draining, nutrition-baffling endeavor was but a gleam in my eye, that was my entire goal: to run a half-marathon. Not only have I done that (and few months earlier than my goal) but I've demonstrated a principle that can be observed everywhere you look: whatever energy a task requires, is the amount of energy you'll have to complete it. However much time something needs, is how much time you'll find to give for it.
I could have chosen to run half the race in May, and I would have trained for those 13 miles. I would have worried over it, planned for it, worked at - and I might have believed it that those 13 miles was the biggest goal I could possibly accomplish. I might have believed it and lived it and finished the race and been very, very, very pleased. Instead, I will go through the same thoughts, the same worrying, the same planning - only for a much bigger goal.
Week 6: Blistering (lack of) speed
Tuesday: 2 miles (should have 4)
Wednesday: 0 (should have been 4)
Thursday: 4! Triumphant 4!
Saturday: 14 miles (this is not a typo)
My Curt Schilling moment
I knew this would be a difficult week for running because my work schedule was really overloaded. On Tuesday, I had one small window of time to run and when I arrived at the gym I found no socks in my bag. Huh. I've seen people run without socks. It seems gross, but they do it. Geez, I've seen marathoners on TV run barefooted. No socks, no problem - just get the run in.
Around mile 2 of the planned four miles, I thought to stop and see if I could retie my laces to get rid of the annoying rub on right Achilles heel. I stopped the treadmill, looked down and saw my running shoe bright red with blood. Not gushing, geysers of blood, but enough so that when I tried to clean it off of the shoe it just oozed like a soggy sponge.
So, I abandoned the last 2 miles and pondered how to heel my bloody, blistered ankle by the next day. At Wednesday's class I got some very good advice, and stopped by the store on the way to the gym afterward to buy some incredibly expensive, specialized blister-healing bandages. The bandage sweated off in less than 1/2 mile and I resigned that day's run in favor of the stationary bicycle. Lame, frustrating.
The next day, determination refocused and gym bag newly loaded with first aid supplies, I returned to the gym. Herein I will divulge the four-step process for subverting (note: not healing) blisters:
1) "Liquid Skin." You can only get away with a disgusting product name if the stuff works. Use the foam-tipped stylus to dab the liquid all over the blister/cut/wound and let it dry into a flexible, adherent bond with the skin. The package says it "sloughs off" in five days, but I found its lifespan much shorter. Still, it keeps the blister from cracking and pussing and drying into a scab. Bonus.
2) Second Skin bandage. The one made by Band-Aid is inferior to the one with the label Second Skin, so buy carefully. These suckers aren't cheap, but they cover well and stick well enough, especially if you use step 3....
3) Medical tape. To the keep the super-luxe bandage on my heel in place, I criss-crossed my ankle and foot in a figure eight of white medical tape. This was the key to the blister-control plan and it made the difference from Wednesday night's failed attempt at running and Thursday morning's success.
4) Re-tied shoelaces. Shoe people recommend that you loop and criss-cross your laces through the top two eyes on your running shoes. I undid this in my right show so that it fit looser and my heel could move a little without rubbing against the shoe.
This, my friends, did the trick. I ran four miles successfully on Thursday with no trouble whatsoever. And on Saturday, my fears of being unable to complete the long run without shredding the remaining raw skin on my heel were quashed.
Half-marathon, plus 0.9 miles
On Saturday I was in Manhattan visiting my sister. I left behind ice and snow and winter storm warnings and found expensive parking and a warm, warm, sunny day. At 9 a.m. I struck out on the Upper West Side and the radio station I was listening to reported that it was 50 degrees. I wore running pants and a long-sleeved shirt - no mittens, no hat, no neck warmers or hand warmers, no jacket, no vest under the jacket.... I felt light and ready and headed south in the thin morning light.
Running in the city is good fit with training on a treadmill because you have the familiar satisfaction of counting streets as if they were tenths of mile on your digital pedometer. You get lost in your thoughts long enough and you look up at the traffic light to realize you're already at 45th Street. Similarly, you can make deals with yourself: when you get to Broadway, eat half the Gu packet. The next "don't cross" sign you hit, stop and stretch. The next pack of tourists who get in your way, sneer at them like you're a local. Actually, the last one happens infrequently on the treadmills at my gym.
From the West 70s I ran south, then west to Chelsea Piers, then stayed on the waterfront bike path all the way down to Battery Park. The tourists were lined up far, far, far around the park for the Statue of Liberty Ferry by the time I got to Battery Park at 10 a.m. I wound around some of the old, doglegged short streets downtown - on a Saturday morning it felt crowded with buildings but empty of people.
I wended my way back north, past the WTC site, past the people peeking through the screens around the construction there, and headed toward 6th Ave. I stayed with it through the Village, into Midtown and then veered onto Broadway and into Times Square. Big mistake. Very crowded. Lots of people walking drowsily, staring up at the buildings and lights, even in full daylight. At one point the sidewalk was so jammed that I ran through/behind the impromptu stage of a Caribbean beat ensemble. I had Gu'ed recently and was getting anxious to cover some miles before the morning got too late, and I imagined myself in one of those urban-warrior running shoe commercials, hopping amid the flotsam and jetsam of the city undeterred. (In truth, I probably looked more like a hobbled runaway from a Jazzercise class, given the miles and hours I'd already spent by then. But no matter! I was running 14 miles today!)
Midtown gave way to Central Park faster than I imagined and I happily headed for the lower loop that would finish off my run. A music program on the radio was just starting as I was rounding out my last half-mile. Improbably, the song the cheered me home was from Aaron Copeland's Appalachian Spring: Rodeo - the super triumphant, happy and proud song they used in the "Beef - it's what for dinner" commercials. There is no better song to end a long run on - I recommend they blast it through the PA at the finish line on race day.
Wednesday: 0 (should have been 4)
Thursday: 4! Triumphant 4!
Saturday: 14 miles (this is not a typo)
My Curt Schilling moment
I knew this would be a difficult week for running because my work schedule was really overloaded. On Tuesday, I had one small window of time to run and when I arrived at the gym I found no socks in my bag. Huh. I've seen people run without socks. It seems gross, but they do it. Geez, I've seen marathoners on TV run barefooted. No socks, no problem - just get the run in.
Around mile 2 of the planned four miles, I thought to stop and see if I could retie my laces to get rid of the annoying rub on right Achilles heel. I stopped the treadmill, looked down and saw my running shoe bright red with blood. Not gushing, geysers of blood, but enough so that when I tried to clean it off of the shoe it just oozed like a soggy sponge.
So, I abandoned the last 2 miles and pondered how to heel my bloody, blistered ankle by the next day. At Wednesday's class I got some very good advice, and stopped by the store on the way to the gym afterward to buy some incredibly expensive, specialized blister-healing bandages. The bandage sweated off in less than 1/2 mile and I resigned that day's run in favor of the stationary bicycle. Lame, frustrating.
The next day, determination refocused and gym bag newly loaded with first aid supplies, I returned to the gym. Herein I will divulge the four-step process for subverting (note: not healing) blisters:
1) "Liquid Skin." You can only get away with a disgusting product name if the stuff works. Use the foam-tipped stylus to dab the liquid all over the blister/cut/wound and let it dry into a flexible, adherent bond with the skin. The package says it "sloughs off" in five days, but I found its lifespan much shorter. Still, it keeps the blister from cracking and pussing and drying into a scab. Bonus.
2) Second Skin bandage. The one made by Band-Aid is inferior to the one with the label Second Skin, so buy carefully. These suckers aren't cheap, but they cover well and stick well enough, especially if you use step 3....
3) Medical tape. To the keep the super-luxe bandage on my heel in place, I criss-crossed my ankle and foot in a figure eight of white medical tape. This was the key to the blister-control plan and it made the difference from Wednesday night's failed attempt at running and Thursday morning's success.
4) Re-tied shoelaces. Shoe people recommend that you loop and criss-cross your laces through the top two eyes on your running shoes. I undid this in my right show so that it fit looser and my heel could move a little without rubbing against the shoe.
This, my friends, did the trick. I ran four miles successfully on Thursday with no trouble whatsoever. And on Saturday, my fears of being unable to complete the long run without shredding the remaining raw skin on my heel were quashed.
Half-marathon, plus 0.9 miles
On Saturday I was in Manhattan visiting my sister. I left behind ice and snow and winter storm warnings and found expensive parking and a warm, warm, sunny day. At 9 a.m. I struck out on the Upper West Side and the radio station I was listening to reported that it was 50 degrees. I wore running pants and a long-sleeved shirt - no mittens, no hat, no neck warmers or hand warmers, no jacket, no vest under the jacket.... I felt light and ready and headed south in the thin morning light.
Running in the city is good fit with training on a treadmill because you have the familiar satisfaction of counting streets as if they were tenths of mile on your digital pedometer. You get lost in your thoughts long enough and you look up at the traffic light to realize you're already at 45th Street. Similarly, you can make deals with yourself: when you get to Broadway, eat half the Gu packet. The next "don't cross" sign you hit, stop and stretch. The next pack of tourists who get in your way, sneer at them like you're a local. Actually, the last one happens infrequently on the treadmills at my gym.
From the West 70s I ran south, then west to Chelsea Piers, then stayed on the waterfront bike path all the way down to Battery Park. The tourists were lined up far, far, far around the park for the Statue of Liberty Ferry by the time I got to Battery Park at 10 a.m. I wound around some of the old, doglegged short streets downtown - on a Saturday morning it felt crowded with buildings but empty of people.
I wended my way back north, past the WTC site, past the people peeking through the screens around the construction there, and headed toward 6th Ave. I stayed with it through the Village, into Midtown and then veered onto Broadway and into Times Square. Big mistake. Very crowded. Lots of people walking drowsily, staring up at the buildings and lights, even in full daylight. At one point the sidewalk was so jammed that I ran through/behind the impromptu stage of a Caribbean beat ensemble. I had Gu'ed recently and was getting anxious to cover some miles before the morning got too late, and I imagined myself in one of those urban-warrior running shoe commercials, hopping amid the flotsam and jetsam of the city undeterred. (In truth, I probably looked more like a hobbled runaway from a Jazzercise class, given the miles and hours I'd already spent by then. But no matter! I was running 14 miles today!)
Midtown gave way to Central Park faster than I imagined and I happily headed for the lower loop that would finish off my run. A music program on the radio was just starting as I was rounding out my last half-mile. Improbably, the song the cheered me home was from Aaron Copeland's Appalachian Spring: Rodeo - the super triumphant, happy and proud song they used in the "Beef - it's what for dinner" commercials. There is no better song to end a long run on - I recommend they blast it through the PA at the finish line on race day.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Week 5: Damn Map24!
Tuesday: 4 miles
Wednesday: 3 miles
Thursday: 4 miles
Saturday: skipped 3 miles (Mardi Gras parade!)
Sunday: 12 miles
Come on down!
For Tuesday's run I went to location of my gym that I'd never tried before. It was me and the mostly elderly folks, several treadmills wedged into a room with a few bikes and stairmasters. Instead on a TV and headphones at each machine there was one TV up in the corner inviting all of to guess the price of the showcase showdown. That's exercise entertainment.
On Wednesday the class met at a physical therapist's office and I learned about all kinds of aches, pains and causes for paranoia. Tried not to think about them on Wednesday night or Thursday morning.
I fully intended to run 3 miles on Saturday morning, before the Mardi Gras parade. My second intention was to leave the after the parade to go running (this one was truly fool-hardy). Alas, no Satruday short run this week either.
Map24 lets me down
Heeding advice to get out of town and run on the country roads, I planned a 12-mile run in near a friend's house. (The same friend who told me about Map24, now that I think about it.) I remembered it being not too hilly - faulty memory - and Map24 presented an option for a loop that had a few spurs going out in different directions along the way. But as I drove out there, I realized that one key road in the loop did not actually exist. Huh.
I then commenced driving around and around, relying my odometer to figure out a new route. As retraced a few roads, I kept driving by the same runner. The first time I saw him I felt excited and inspired. We are the same! I'll be out there running too, in just a few minutes! I swung wide into the other lane to give him a wide berth on the snowy shoulder of the road. The second I passed him, I smiled goofily and wondered what route he'd planned and how far he was running, and maybe I should ask him where to run? The third time I was irritated at myself because it was getting late in the afternoon, and colder, and still hadn't figured out a place to park, route to run and way to get in the required miles on these godforsaken backcountry farmfields. The fourth time I passed him, I couldn't mistake the look on his face for anything other than, "why is that weirdo driving in circles around me?"
I was able to get in 8 miles, finally. But as it got later and colder, I felt less inclined to live the dream of running on the open road. A treadmill with the promise of a sauna afterward seemed a better fit. So I ran the last 4 miles at the gym and called it a day.
Wednesday: 3 miles
Thursday: 4 miles
Saturday: skipped 3 miles (Mardi Gras parade!)
Sunday: 12 miles
Come on down!
For Tuesday's run I went to location of my gym that I'd never tried before. It was me and the mostly elderly folks, several treadmills wedged into a room with a few bikes and stairmasters. Instead on a TV and headphones at each machine there was one TV up in the corner inviting all of to guess the price of the showcase showdown. That's exercise entertainment.
On Wednesday the class met at a physical therapist's office and I learned about all kinds of aches, pains and causes for paranoia. Tried not to think about them on Wednesday night or Thursday morning.
I fully intended to run 3 miles on Saturday morning, before the Mardi Gras parade. My second intention was to leave the after the parade to go running (this one was truly fool-hardy). Alas, no Satruday short run this week either.
Map24 lets me down
Heeding advice to get out of town and run on the country roads, I planned a 12-mile run in near a friend's house. (The same friend who told me about Map24, now that I think about it.) I remembered it being not too hilly - faulty memory - and Map24 presented an option for a loop that had a few spurs going out in different directions along the way. But as I drove out there, I realized that one key road in the loop did not actually exist. Huh.
I then commenced driving around and around, relying my odometer to figure out a new route. As retraced a few roads, I kept driving by the same runner. The first time I saw him I felt excited and inspired. We are the same! I'll be out there running too, in just a few minutes! I swung wide into the other lane to give him a wide berth on the snowy shoulder of the road. The second I passed him, I smiled goofily and wondered what route he'd planned and how far he was running, and maybe I should ask him where to run? The third time I was irritated at myself because it was getting late in the afternoon, and colder, and still hadn't figured out a place to park, route to run and way to get in the required miles on these godforsaken backcountry farmfields. The fourth time I passed him, I couldn't mistake the look on his face for anything other than, "why is that weirdo driving in circles around me?"
I was able to get in 8 miles, finally. But as it got later and colder, I felt less inclined to live the dream of running on the open road. A treadmill with the promise of a sauna afterward seemed a better fit. So I ran the last 4 miles at the gym and called it a day.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Week 4: Let it snow
Tuesday: 0 (should have been 3 miles)
Wednesday: 0 (should have been 4 miles)
Thursday: 5 (should have been 3 miles)
Friday: 5 (scheduled free day)
Saturday: sledded instead (should have been 3 miles)
Sunday: 10 miles!
A winter's worth of snow in 36 hours
The blizzard that dropped 3-4 feet of snow on the state this week presented some big problems for work and for running. I was planning for a huge project at work that was do be done on Wednesday and the coming storm threw a lot of doubt into the planning. So instead of preparing for one big project, I planned for that and one big contingency plan. And in the process of this planning, Tuesday evaporated before my eyes and sent me home at 9 p.m. exhausted, and knowing full well that Wednesday would not be pretty. Thus on Tuesday, I did not run.
Wednesday's snow sent the state into instant hibernation. Schools closed, the government closed, and the plows and police couldn't keep up with the downfall. And this is in a state where people know how to handle winter. So when I was finished with work (successfully, thank you) at 2 p.m. on Wednesday, I was released with my other colleagues into the snowy abyss. I had fully intended to run extra miles to make up for Tuesday's goose egg, but you know what else closed down for the storm? The gym. Thus on Wednesday also, I did not run.
Make-up time
I hit the gym at 9 p.m. after work and ran 5 miles, though the schedule called for 3. My plan is to run 5 today (check) and 5 tomorrow (would have been a day off) and that will add up to the miles I was supposed to have run before Saturday. I took a stretch break at 3 miles tonight and finished the 5 feeling pretty good. If I hadn't cranked up the speed on the treadmill just to get it over with, I think I could have run a bit farther.
Friday evening I was feeling sluggish but also resigned to the imperative that I was going to run and there's no reason to fight it. I wasn't sure about running 5 miles back-to-back just a few days before a 10-mile run, so I ran only the first 2.5 miles and took a break to stretch and then I finished the remaining 2.5 with a run-walk. This seemed a reasonable approach and as I write this on Saturday morning, my somewhat sore legs are validating that decision.
Doesn't cross-training count?
Saturday was scheduled for a 3-mile run, which to me now seems like an incidental, throw-away maintenance run. You have to do it, but it's that big of deal to get it done. But I was feeling sore and tired from Thursday's and Friday's 5-mile runs (not enough stretching, clearly) and decided to walk today's 3 miles. But as errands ate up the day and day became evening I found my rationalizing and drawing on the advice of my ultra-marathoner friend: there's nothing wrong with giving your body a break with a little cross-training. And so in lieu of 3 miles, I went sledding. And it was awesome.
For 1 1/2 hours we sailed down the bumpy and fairly steep hillside of a golf course, then trudged through deep snow back to the top. If you've never sledded, let me assure you this is an activity that requires cardiovascular endurance to get back up the hill, strength to hold on tight on the way down, and little gumption to set out downhill in the first place. It was a fairly cloudy night in a rural area so we couldn't actually see the hill we were about to sled down, we knew only that we were at the top. An occasional passing car illuminated the slope with all it bumps, moguls and steep drops on the left side. Several crashes, but no injuries to report - just lots of fun.
Sunday: 10 slow, cold miles
I mapped a route that would pass by my gym several times, giving me a chance to warm up, adjust layers and give out the outdoors for the treadmill at several different points in the run. And I took advantage of that planning. I ran a 1-mile loop three times, then struck out on the road for a 2.6 mile loop. From there I had a 4.4-mile loop planned, but the sidewalks were buried in snow and the road was barely wide enough for the cars. So I repeated the 1-mile loop twice and finished up on the treadmill.
So that's the good news: I got in 10 miles. I stopped twice - once at mile 1 to shed a layer of fleece at my car; once at 5.6 to use the bathroom, warm up and stretch; once again at mile 7.6 to shed layers and hit the treadmill. By this point my knees were sore and once I warmed up a bit I realized my back was sore too. Getting on the treadmill was awkward and painful - it took a good mile to loosen up from the cold and to run with a normal gait.
Afterward I had snack as was recommended (apparently you have about 1/2 hour to refuel after a long run or your body starts to breakdown whatever it already has going for it) and then sat in the hot tub to stretch and recuperate. I'm not sure if it was the run, the hardboiled egg and slices of turkey, or the heat of the hot tub (clearly, all three weren't a great combination) but I felt totally nauseous and sore and miserable for awhile there.
Now at home I'm Googling day spas that might have openings for hour-long massages tomorrow. My knees are sorest, but my back is a close second. I hope stretching will solve this.
Wednesday: 0 (should have been 4 miles)
Thursday: 5 (should have been 3 miles)
Friday: 5 (scheduled free day)
Saturday: sledded instead (should have been 3 miles)
Sunday: 10 miles!
A winter's worth of snow in 36 hours
The blizzard that dropped 3-4 feet of snow on the state this week presented some big problems for work and for running. I was planning for a huge project at work that was do be done on Wednesday and the coming storm threw a lot of doubt into the planning. So instead of preparing for one big project, I planned for that and one big contingency plan. And in the process of this planning, Tuesday evaporated before my eyes and sent me home at 9 p.m. exhausted, and knowing full well that Wednesday would not be pretty. Thus on Tuesday, I did not run.
Wednesday's snow sent the state into instant hibernation. Schools closed, the government closed, and the plows and police couldn't keep up with the downfall. And this is in a state where people know how to handle winter. So when I was finished with work (successfully, thank you) at 2 p.m. on Wednesday, I was released with my other colleagues into the snowy abyss. I had fully intended to run extra miles to make up for Tuesday's goose egg, but you know what else closed down for the storm? The gym. Thus on Wednesday also, I did not run.
Make-up time
I hit the gym at 9 p.m. after work and ran 5 miles, though the schedule called for 3. My plan is to run 5 today (check) and 5 tomorrow (would have been a day off) and that will add up to the miles I was supposed to have run before Saturday. I took a stretch break at 3 miles tonight and finished the 5 feeling pretty good. If I hadn't cranked up the speed on the treadmill just to get it over with, I think I could have run a bit farther.
Friday evening I was feeling sluggish but also resigned to the imperative that I was going to run and there's no reason to fight it. I wasn't sure about running 5 miles back-to-back just a few days before a 10-mile run, so I ran only the first 2.5 miles and took a break to stretch and then I finished the remaining 2.5 with a run-walk. This seemed a reasonable approach and as I write this on Saturday morning, my somewhat sore legs are validating that decision.
Doesn't cross-training count?
Saturday was scheduled for a 3-mile run, which to me now seems like an incidental, throw-away maintenance run. You have to do it, but it's that big of deal to get it done. But I was feeling sore and tired from Thursday's and Friday's 5-mile runs (not enough stretching, clearly) and decided to walk today's 3 miles. But as errands ate up the day and day became evening I found my rationalizing and drawing on the advice of my ultra-marathoner friend: there's nothing wrong with giving your body a break with a little cross-training. And so in lieu of 3 miles, I went sledding. And it was awesome.
For 1 1/2 hours we sailed down the bumpy and fairly steep hillside of a golf course, then trudged through deep snow back to the top. If you've never sledded, let me assure you this is an activity that requires cardiovascular endurance to get back up the hill, strength to hold on tight on the way down, and little gumption to set out downhill in the first place. It was a fairly cloudy night in a rural area so we couldn't actually see the hill we were about to sled down, we knew only that we were at the top. An occasional passing car illuminated the slope with all it bumps, moguls and steep drops on the left side. Several crashes, but no injuries to report - just lots of fun.
Sunday: 10 slow, cold miles
I mapped a route that would pass by my gym several times, giving me a chance to warm up, adjust layers and give out the outdoors for the treadmill at several different points in the run. And I took advantage of that planning. I ran a 1-mile loop three times, then struck out on the road for a 2.6 mile loop. From there I had a 4.4-mile loop planned, but the sidewalks were buried in snow and the road was barely wide enough for the cars. So I repeated the 1-mile loop twice and finished up on the treadmill.
So that's the good news: I got in 10 miles. I stopped twice - once at mile 1 to shed a layer of fleece at my car; once at 5.6 to use the bathroom, warm up and stretch; once again at mile 7.6 to shed layers and hit the treadmill. By this point my knees were sore and once I warmed up a bit I realized my back was sore too. Getting on the treadmill was awkward and painful - it took a good mile to loosen up from the cold and to run with a normal gait.
Afterward I had snack as was recommended (apparently you have about 1/2 hour to refuel after a long run or your body starts to breakdown whatever it already has going for it) and then sat in the hot tub to stretch and recuperate. I'm not sure if it was the run, the hardboiled egg and slices of turkey, or the heat of the hot tub (clearly, all three weren't a great combination) but I felt totally nauseous and sore and miserable for awhile there.
Now at home I'm Googling day spas that might have openings for hour-long massages tomorrow. My knees are sorest, but my back is a close second. I hope stretching will solve this.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
The food journal begins
The very helpful nutritionist who spoke to our class last week invited us to keep a food journal for three days for her to analyze for its nutritional content. This is a great opportunity for me, given my scandalous lack of knowledge about nutrition, but it skeezes me out for two reasons:
Skeezy Part 1:
The food journal calls on me to keep a record of everything I eat in a day, the time of day I eat it and what kind of exercise I get during that day. This conjures for me the image of a teenager with an eating disorder, desperately agonizing over every calorie and spiraling downward in the manner of an after-school special. I know the point of this food journal is to make sure I'm getting enough food, rather than to reduce what I'm eating, but the act of writing it down still reeks of unhealthy obsession with food.
Skeezy Part 2:
This will be a professional confirmation/condemnation of crappy eating. I will have to own up to it, look it the eye and decide whether I want to do something about it. The nutritionist signed her letter to our class with this admonition: "Good nutrition maximizes your potential. Bad nutrition impairs it. Choose to be your best!" Interesting.
Raw-foodist, I'm not
In coincidence with the crazy amounts of snow that fell this week, my stove broke. I was cooking on Sunday evening - a bunch of random stuff to have in the fridge during the week - the mechanism inside the stove that controls one of the burners finally broke after threatening to for a long time. In an extra challenge, the burner was broken in the "on" position. Huh. I switched off the breaker and went shopping for a new stove to replace the one that had served 20 years admirably.
I also decided no stove=no food journal. My already oddball diet was extra animated with lots of take-out, processed stuff and microwavables. Popcorn, for instance. Or last night's dinner - half a box of crackers topped with goat cheese. It was easy, tasty and required no cooking.
But this evening from where I sit in my living room, I am admiring the new stove that was installed today. Let the food journal begin.
Skeezy Part 1:
The food journal calls on me to keep a record of everything I eat in a day, the time of day I eat it and what kind of exercise I get during that day. This conjures for me the image of a teenager with an eating disorder, desperately agonizing over every calorie and spiraling downward in the manner of an after-school special. I know the point of this food journal is to make sure I'm getting enough food, rather than to reduce what I'm eating, but the act of writing it down still reeks of unhealthy obsession with food.
Skeezy Part 2:
This will be a professional confirmation/condemnation of crappy eating. I will have to own up to it, look it the eye and decide whether I want to do something about it. The nutritionist signed her letter to our class with this admonition: "Good nutrition maximizes your potential. Bad nutrition impairs it. Choose to be your best!" Interesting.
Raw-foodist, I'm not
In coincidence with the crazy amounts of snow that fell this week, my stove broke. I was cooking on Sunday evening - a bunch of random stuff to have in the fridge during the week - the mechanism inside the stove that controls one of the burners finally broke after threatening to for a long time. In an extra challenge, the burner was broken in the "on" position. Huh. I switched off the breaker and went shopping for a new stove to replace the one that had served 20 years admirably.
I also decided no stove=no food journal. My already oddball diet was extra animated with lots of take-out, processed stuff and microwavables. Popcorn, for instance. Or last night's dinner - half a box of crackers topped with goat cheese. It was easy, tasty and required no cooking.
But this evening from where I sit in my living room, I am admiring the new stove that was installed today. Let the food journal begin.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Week 3: My longest run ever
Tuesday: 3 miles
Wednesday: 4 miles
Thursday: 3 miles
Saturday: 3 miles
Sunday: 8 miles (!)
Tuesday - a reminder not to leave work late
My plan to run on Tuesday morning was undermined by a more attractive offer to have breakfast with a friend. My intention to take a break from work and run in the afternoon didn't materialize (this was a not even a realistic plan - I shouldn't have even finished thinking that thought). So when I left work at 9 p.m. I had the choice of going to the gym near work, or the gym I prefer nearer home - I chose the latter. And arriving at 9:15 I learned they close at 9:30. But helpfully the gym near work is open till 10:30. Willfully, I got back on the highway, drove back toward work and got in my run. I finished my 3 miles at 10 minute pace, just as they were closing for the night.
Wednesday - music!
I had a great 4-mile run in the evening after Marathon 101. I warmed up at slow 12-minute pace, ran 2 miles at an 11-minute pace, ran the third mile at a 10-minute pace, then alternated between 10-11 minutes for the final mile.
The biggest change I made in this run was that my iPod was playing music. I never listen to music while I'm running, I listen to podcasts. I subscribe to them faithfully and look forward to hearing them when I get to the gym. It makes me laugh to look at the other treadmills and wonder if any of those guys are listening to Meet the Press, or Washington Week with Gwen Eiffel. Tonight, however, I was newly in possession of a downloaded album that I really wanted to listen to. And even though it was folky, slow, meandering, cerebral singing (not a contender for the next Jock Jams compilation) it was awesome! I focused less on the minutes and tenths of miles ticking past and just enjoyed the run - actually just enjoyed it. It was wild! I'm not trading in my podcasts, but this opens new possibilities.
Thursday - it's just routine
I went to the gym near work in the morning before going in to work. This run felt like checking a task off a list - I wasn't excited about, I didn't think much about it, I just did because I knew I had to. I felt pretty tired and little cranky afterward - maybe it was the combination of running 4 miles at night and 3 miles in the morning without enough food or sleep in between.
Saturday - closing time, again
Friday night was unexpectedly long and eventful and Saturday morning was the annual Penguin Plunge, followed by burgers and napping. Mid-afternoon I looked up the closing time of the gym (7:00 p.m.) and calculated that I'd need a little more than a half-hour to get in my 3 miles -- enough time to nap a little longer on the couch. Around 5:45 I forced myself out the door, got to the gym and found every blessed treadmill occupied. I stretched, I watched, I lurked and I waited for a treadmill to open up as the minutes ticked by. It was 6:30 p.m. when a very nice older woman finished her walking routine (hey, I figured, everyone deserve to workout without their pace being rushed or judged) and I had just enough time to finish my 3 miles before they tossed me out.
Sunday - this was BIG
Since first looking at the training schedule, this weekend has stood out as a milestone for me. I have never run farther than 6.5 miles in my life, and this 8-mile run was going to be the first test to burn past that marker. The 6-mile runs in the previous weekends had ok at best, but not necessarily fabulous in a confidence-boosting way.
Using the super-useful Map 24 I charted a route in the North End that started with a 3-mile loop and end with a 5-mile out-and-back run. The forecast said 26 degrees and the sun was out but dodgy, the wind was mild -- this might be one of the better days for outdoor running we've had in a long, long time.
At a mile in, I was tired and rationalizing that tomorrow, Monday, is a day off and I could do this run then instead of now. I kept going, a pretty slow jogging pace and finished off the 3 miles feeling ok. I stopped back the car to adjust layers of clothing and pick up a water bottle, than took off on the 5-mile stretch. It was a particularly interesting neighborhood to run in, but it's an area that I've only driven and never walked, so it was interesting to look more closely at the houses and markets. And every pedestrian I passed gave me a jolt of pride: I am running. I am running. I am RUNNING. Merely months ago the thought of doing this would be fairly classified as a thought. It would be more of a notion, an awareness that other people (who are crazy) go out and run 8 miles in the snow. But now I am among them, and that feels good. It also feels cold, but mostly good.
I did have to take a break, probably around 6 or 7 miles, because the cold was getting to me. By now I was running in the shade, sky had clouded over and I felt the chill in my knees. I walked a few laps around a convenience store to warm up and find something new in my iPod to keep me company for the final stretch. I'd like to be able to say that I set out for 8 miles and ran it without stopping, but I think until the weather changes, that's not realistic. I'm very encouraged, though, that my endurance wasn't flagging - I felt like I could still go farther. Which is good, because next Sunday calls for 10 miles. Lordy.
Wednesday: 4 miles
Thursday: 3 miles
Saturday: 3 miles
Sunday: 8 miles (!)
Tuesday - a reminder not to leave work late
My plan to run on Tuesday morning was undermined by a more attractive offer to have breakfast with a friend. My intention to take a break from work and run in the afternoon didn't materialize (this was a not even a realistic plan - I shouldn't have even finished thinking that thought). So when I left work at 9 p.m. I had the choice of going to the gym near work, or the gym I prefer nearer home - I chose the latter. And arriving at 9:15 I learned they close at 9:30. But helpfully the gym near work is open till 10:30. Willfully, I got back on the highway, drove back toward work and got in my run. I finished my 3 miles at 10 minute pace, just as they were closing for the night.
Wednesday - music!
I had a great 4-mile run in the evening after Marathon 101. I warmed up at slow 12-minute pace, ran 2 miles at an 11-minute pace, ran the third mile at a 10-minute pace, then alternated between 10-11 minutes for the final mile.
The biggest change I made in this run was that my iPod was playing music. I never listen to music while I'm running, I listen to podcasts. I subscribe to them faithfully and look forward to hearing them when I get to the gym. It makes me laugh to look at the other treadmills and wonder if any of those guys are listening to Meet the Press, or Washington Week with Gwen Eiffel. Tonight, however, I was newly in possession of a downloaded album that I really wanted to listen to. And even though it was folky, slow, meandering, cerebral singing (not a contender for the next Jock Jams compilation) it was awesome! I focused less on the minutes and tenths of miles ticking past and just enjoyed the run - actually just enjoyed it. It was wild! I'm not trading in my podcasts, but this opens new possibilities.
Thursday - it's just routine
I went to the gym near work in the morning before going in to work. This run felt like checking a task off a list - I wasn't excited about, I didn't think much about it, I just did because I knew I had to. I felt pretty tired and little cranky afterward - maybe it was the combination of running 4 miles at night and 3 miles in the morning without enough food or sleep in between.
Saturday - closing time, again
Friday night was unexpectedly long and eventful and Saturday morning was the annual Penguin Plunge, followed by burgers and napping. Mid-afternoon I looked up the closing time of the gym (7:00 p.m.) and calculated that I'd need a little more than a half-hour to get in my 3 miles -- enough time to nap a little longer on the couch. Around 5:45 I forced myself out the door, got to the gym and found every blessed treadmill occupied. I stretched, I watched, I lurked and I waited for a treadmill to open up as the minutes ticked by. It was 6:30 p.m. when a very nice older woman finished her walking routine (hey, I figured, everyone deserve to workout without their pace being rushed or judged) and I had just enough time to finish my 3 miles before they tossed me out.
Sunday - this was BIG
Since first looking at the training schedule, this weekend has stood out as a milestone for me. I have never run farther than 6.5 miles in my life, and this 8-mile run was going to be the first test to burn past that marker. The 6-mile runs in the previous weekends had ok at best, but not necessarily fabulous in a confidence-boosting way.
Using the super-useful Map 24 I charted a route in the North End that started with a 3-mile loop and end with a 5-mile out-and-back run. The forecast said 26 degrees and the sun was out but dodgy, the wind was mild -- this might be one of the better days for outdoor running we've had in a long, long time.
At a mile in, I was tired and rationalizing that tomorrow, Monday, is a day off and I could do this run then instead of now. I kept going, a pretty slow jogging pace and finished off the 3 miles feeling ok. I stopped back the car to adjust layers of clothing and pick up a water bottle, than took off on the 5-mile stretch. It was a particularly interesting neighborhood to run in, but it's an area that I've only driven and never walked, so it was interesting to look more closely at the houses and markets. And every pedestrian I passed gave me a jolt of pride: I am running. I am running. I am RUNNING. Merely months ago the thought of doing this would be fairly classified as a thought. It would be more of a notion, an awareness that other people (who are crazy) go out and run 8 miles in the snow. But now I am among them, and that feels good. It also feels cold, but mostly good.
I did have to take a break, probably around 6 or 7 miles, because the cold was getting to me. By now I was running in the shade, sky had clouded over and I felt the chill in my knees. I walked a few laps around a convenience store to warm up and find something new in my iPod to keep me company for the final stretch. I'd like to be able to say that I set out for 8 miles and ran it without stopping, but I think until the weather changes, that's not realistic. I'm very encouraged, though, that my endurance wasn't flagging - I felt like I could still go farther. Which is good, because next Sunday calls for 10 miles. Lordy.
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
Nutrition is a pain in the ass
Tonight's Marathon 101 class focused on a topic that I need a lot of help with: nutrition. Nutrition baffles me. If I were tested on nutrition literacy like eighth graders are tested for reading and math, I would be in a low, low percentile.
So I was hopeful that tonight would clarify things for me, and in part that was the case. The instructor had bags of groceries and she pulled out items and had us name their nutritional value - carb, protein, fat, etc. And while this may have been remedial for everyone else in the room, I found it helpful to see these piles growing on the table of varied foods, all having their own nutritional merits pulling for them.
The part that still confuses me is how to get these nutrients into my body and in what quantities. First, there are recommendations for numbers of servings per day, and it varies depending on what kind of nutrition-packed food you're talking about. Then there is rule of having a carb, and protein and fat in each meal. And then there is the complication that not all protein-containing foods have complete proteins and they need to be combined with certain other foods for their benefits to be realized. And when tonight's conversation veered toward glucose levels and amino acids, I started to wonder if I could get by without thinking about all this.
And then there is the question of how much nutrition and how many calories you need to support the training regime you're undertaking. It seems logical that the more energy you're expending, the more fuel/food you need to take in. But what's the baseline, and how much is enough? This warning was sobering: your body will break down and metabolize your own muscle protein if you don't take in enough carbs and protein. So how much food should I eat? They say, "Listen to your body." My body has never undertaken this kind of challenge. My body may not know what it needs. My body wants to eat Cheez-Its for dinner.
So I was hopeful that tonight would clarify things for me, and in part that was the case. The instructor had bags of groceries and she pulled out items and had us name their nutritional value - carb, protein, fat, etc. And while this may have been remedial for everyone else in the room, I found it helpful to see these piles growing on the table of varied foods, all having their own nutritional merits pulling for them.
The part that still confuses me is how to get these nutrients into my body and in what quantities. First, there are recommendations for numbers of servings per day, and it varies depending on what kind of nutrition-packed food you're talking about. Then there is rule of having a carb, and protein and fat in each meal. And then there is the complication that not all protein-containing foods have complete proteins and they need to be combined with certain other foods for their benefits to be realized. And when tonight's conversation veered toward glucose levels and amino acids, I started to wonder if I could get by without thinking about all this.
And then there is the question of how much nutrition and how many calories you need to support the training regime you're undertaking. It seems logical that the more energy you're expending, the more fuel/food you need to take in. But what's the baseline, and how much is enough? This warning was sobering: your body will break down and metabolize your own muscle protein if you don't take in enough carbs and protein. So how much food should I eat? They say, "Listen to your body." My body has never undertaken this kind of challenge. My body may not know what it needs. My body wants to eat Cheez-Its for dinner.
Monday, February 5, 2007
Advice with a cup of soup
I had lunch with a friend who has run 26 marathons. Twenty-six! I knew he'd run many, but not that many. It renewed my enthusiasm and his certainty that if I stick to training I can absolutely do this was encouraging. But it gave me a scary, potentially doubt-inducing glimpse at how many ways there are to train, how my aproaches, strategies and philosophies there are. And who's to say which one is right for me?
Hopefully, the proscribed path I'm following will work well enough, but alas I learned from the lunch that personal determination and decision-making is a big part of preparing for the race, and until now I was taking a "do what I'm told" approach. I have an awful lot to learn about nutrition, training and physiology to appropriately deviate from the plan and take more of my training into my own hands.
Hopefully, the proscribed path I'm following will work well enough, but alas I learned from the lunch that personal determination and decision-making is a big part of preparing for the race, and until now I was taking a "do what I'm told" approach. I have an awful lot to learn about nutrition, training and physiology to appropriately deviate from the plan and take more of my training into my own hands.
Sunday, February 4, 2007
About that shoe fitting....
One of the sponsors of the marathon is an athletic shoe store and they provided a little seminar on how running shoes are constructed, how your feet are shaped and how the two ought to fit together. Early on, the women were warned not to choose running shoes based on looks, which I totally resented. Not because it's untrue, but because men play into the same superficial attractions in sportswear that women do. (How the hell else do you explain Air Jordan?)
Once I knew what kind of shoes I should be running, the option appeared: 3 pairs of shoes in varying shades of ugly purple, a pair in shocking white-and-turquoise, and pair in sparkly green-and-white. I have to admit, the ugly factor made the first pairs feel like they didn't fit. But between the turquoise and green shoes, I picked the better-fitting but bizarrely bright blue shoes.
Once I knew what kind of shoes I should be running, the option appeared: 3 pairs of shoes in varying shades of ugly purple, a pair in shocking white-and-turquoise, and pair in sparkly green-and-white. I have to admit, the ugly factor made the first pairs feel like they didn't fit. But between the turquoise and green shoes, I picked the better-fitting but bizarrely bright blue shoes.
Week 2: Sick - of running?
Tuesday: 5 miles
Thursday: skipped a run (should have been 5 miles)
Saturday: 3 miles
Sunday: 6 miles, the last 2 slow and sad
Downhill Fast
This week started strong - I burst through Tuesday's run feeling like this is already part of daily routine. I ran 5 miles in the morning and went to work as if I've done this every day of my life.
On Wednesday I had a headache most of the day and by evening my temperature was 101. I fell asleep with the chills, never mind two down blankets and a thermostat set high enough to induce global-warming-guilt.
Thursday ended late, and I was in no shape to run my scheduled 5 miles. I felt pretty bitter about deviating from the training schedule only a week-and-a-half into the program. Friday was a scheduled day off and I reasoned that I was just postponing the run till then.
Seriously, enough already
I was still in no shape to run on Friday: I left work early and slept about 18 hours in the aforementioned down blanket cocoon. I woke up periodically, allowing time to acknowledge that I was bored and still felt like crap.
When Saturday dawned clear and cold I (finally!) felt better. I hit the treadmill thinking that I would at least run the scheduled 3 miles for the day, but maybe I get go a bit farther to make up for Thursday. I called it quits at 3, and felt pretty tire and weak for the rest of the day. But at least I didn't skip a second run this week!
Sunday was the true challenge: the 6-mile run. The previous 6-miler had been iffy - cold, snot, messy. By this time, I had new pair of running shoes (thanks to super-detailed shoe fitting that morning) and a reminder from the leader of Marathon 101 that if you push yourself while your sick, you'll only set yourself back further.
So I ran the first half -- 3 miles -- and took a break to stretch; I ran the fourth mile, then alternated walking an running half-miles after that. I hit the 6.00 mark on the treadmill and I didn't overdo it, but I'm still aware that I haven't gone out and run a continuous 6 miles yet, and next weekend calls for an 8 mile run. How will she do?
Thursday: skipped a run (should have been 5 miles)
Saturday: 3 miles
Sunday: 6 miles, the last 2 slow and sad
Downhill Fast
This week started strong - I burst through Tuesday's run feeling like this is already part of daily routine. I ran 5 miles in the morning and went to work as if I've done this every day of my life.
On Wednesday I had a headache most of the day and by evening my temperature was 101. I fell asleep with the chills, never mind two down blankets and a thermostat set high enough to induce global-warming-guilt.
Thursday ended late, and I was in no shape to run my scheduled 5 miles. I felt pretty bitter about deviating from the training schedule only a week-and-a-half into the program. Friday was a scheduled day off and I reasoned that I was just postponing the run till then.
Seriously, enough already
I was still in no shape to run on Friday: I left work early and slept about 18 hours in the aforementioned down blanket cocoon. I woke up periodically, allowing time to acknowledge that I was bored and still felt like crap.
When Saturday dawned clear and cold I (finally!) felt better. I hit the treadmill thinking that I would at least run the scheduled 3 miles for the day, but maybe I get go a bit farther to make up for Thursday. I called it quits at 3, and felt pretty tire and weak for the rest of the day. But at least I didn't skip a second run this week!
Sunday was the true challenge: the 6-mile run. The previous 6-miler had been iffy - cold, snot, messy. By this time, I had new pair of running shoes (thanks to super-detailed shoe fitting that morning) and a reminder from the leader of Marathon 101 that if you push yourself while your sick, you'll only set yourself back further.
So I ran the first half -- 3 miles -- and took a break to stretch; I ran the fourth mile, then alternated walking an running half-miles after that. I hit the 6.00 mark on the treadmill and I didn't overdo it, but I'm still aware that I haven't gone out and run a continuous 6 miles yet, and next weekend calls for an 8 mile run. How will she do?
Sunday, January 28, 2007
What I'm learning
Here's how I usually work: I like deadlines, and I like using stress as motivation to work faster and more efficiently. I was never the type to plan a term paper in advance and work at it incrementally. I crammed and researched furiously and cranked it out during all-nighters.
But as the trainer told us during the first Marathon 101 class: there's no cramming for a marathon.
You can't skip one day and think you'll make it up later in the week. There are a million good reasons and high priorities that will compete for your time (not to mention laziness and inertia), and you have to choose if you want to do this enough to prepare for it. That's what will challenge me as much as the physicality of running: staying with the training day in and day out.
As Week 1 of 18 ends, I still think I can make it.
But as the trainer told us during the first Marathon 101 class: there's no cramming for a marathon.
You can't skip one day and think you'll make it up later in the week. There are a million good reasons and high priorities that will compete for your time (not to mention laziness and inertia), and you have to choose if you want to do this enough to prepare for it. That's what will challenge me as much as the physicality of running: staying with the training day in and day out.
As Week 1 of 18 ends, I still think I can make it.
Week 1: So far, not too bad
Tuesday: 4 miles
Thursday: 5 miles
Saturday: 3 miles
Sunday: 6 miles
The Class
The Marathon 101 class that I've been imagining as the vehicle to success in running this race finally started this week and will meet every Wednesday until race day - 18 weeks from now. I had hoped to be running 5 miles comfortably before the first class, but I was closer to 3.5-4. I was exceedingly pleased with myself for running 4 miles in 44 minutes the day before the first class - even more so to realize that the schedule that would become my bible called on me to run only 3 miles that day.
My fellow classmates are full of nervous, hopeful energy for what we're attempting. Many of them have incredibly somber, heavy reasons for wanting to take this on and I'm left feeling a bit... silly? Lacking purpose? Up until the first class I felt optimistic, excited and aware that this would be incredibly hard - particularly for someone like me with little experience as a runner. That night I went to bed feeling much more hesitant. My classmates' seriousness and experience, coupled with a close examination of the training schedule (12 miles runs, 16 mile runs, 20 miles? seriously?!), edged my anticipation with doubt.
The First Training Runs
The next morning, per the schedule, I ran 5 miles -- in just under an hour! At some point my gym will call me out for flagrantly violating the time limits on the treadmill. I went to work feeling tired and headachy, and questioning the wisdom of wearing really cute high-heeled shoes.
I expected Saturday's 3-mile run to go pretty easily. I managed it in 31 minutes but I didn't feel as solid as I had earlier in the week. Sunday is the day of long runs in this training schedule and I embarked this morning in the bright sunny cold to run 6 miles. I went 6 miles, but it didn't feel like much of a run. I stopped often to clear the fog out of my sunglasses, readjust my hat, resuscitate my iPod that was failing in the cold, blow my nose, wipe the wind-induced tears from my eyes, etc etc. I felt like a mess and running was
Thursday: 5 miles
Saturday: 3 miles
Sunday: 6 miles
The Class
The Marathon 101 class that I've been imagining as the vehicle to success in running this race finally started this week and will meet every Wednesday until race day - 18 weeks from now. I had hoped to be running 5 miles comfortably before the first class, but I was closer to 3.5-4. I was exceedingly pleased with myself for running 4 miles in 44 minutes the day before the first class - even more so to realize that the schedule that would become my bible called on me to run only 3 miles that day.
My fellow classmates are full of nervous, hopeful energy for what we're attempting. Many of them have incredibly somber, heavy reasons for wanting to take this on and I'm left feeling a bit... silly? Lacking purpose? Up until the first class I felt optimistic, excited and aware that this would be incredibly hard - particularly for someone like me with little experience as a runner. That night I went to bed feeling much more hesitant. My classmates' seriousness and experience, coupled with a close examination of the training schedule (12 miles runs, 16 mile runs, 20 miles? seriously?!), edged my anticipation with doubt.
The First Training Runs
The next morning, per the schedule, I ran 5 miles -- in just under an hour! At some point my gym will call me out for flagrantly violating the time limits on the treadmill. I went to work feeling tired and headachy, and questioning the wisdom of wearing really cute high-heeled shoes.
I expected Saturday's 3-mile run to go pretty easily. I managed it in 31 minutes but I didn't feel as solid as I had earlier in the week. Sunday is the day of long runs in this training schedule and I embarked this morning in the bright sunny cold to run 6 miles. I went 6 miles, but it didn't feel like much of a run. I stopped often to clear the fog out of my sunglasses, readjust my hat, resuscitate my iPod that was failing in the cold, blow my nose, wipe the wind-induced tears from my eyes, etc etc. I felt like a mess and running was
Why am I running a marthon anyway?
I did not like running in the first 30 years of my life. In playing sports, the requisite lap around the field before practice killed me; it was no coincidence I needed to tie my shoelaces or tape a joint that wasn't injured while the rest of the team took off for the 1/4 mile jog I resented so much.
So it's unexpected that in my 31st year I would sign up to run a marathon. I'm not sure what possessed me other than the somewhat capricious daydream that it would be so cool to finish a marathon. Last spring I ran in a relay race and my 5 mile leg would far exceed any distance I had ever run. Worse still, on race day our team botched the transitions and I ended running 6.5 miles. But to amazement, I did it! It nearly an hour and half and I threw up that afternoon, but still - the sense of accomplishment!
This fall when marathon registration opened I wanted to get into the half-marathon event. This proved more complicated than I expected and I was warned only half of the people wanting a half-marathon bib actually get one. And here's where the power of persuasion altered my course: the very friendly, convincing and brimming-with-certitude woman at the marathon office talked me into signing up for the full race.
The clincher was a class offered for first-time marathoners. I signed up immediately and spent the following days and weeks excited for the path I'd chosen. I started running at the gym more regularly, which is to say I actually went occasionally instead of thinking about and finding a reason not to. At this point, I could run 2 miles in at a 10-12 mile pace. I found this remarkable a point of pride because only a few earlier I was begging the digital display on the treadmill to tick off each 100th of a mile.
The class was set to start in January, giving me a couple of months to make progress on my own. I was on my way.
So it's unexpected that in my 31st year I would sign up to run a marathon. I'm not sure what possessed me other than the somewhat capricious daydream that it would be so cool to finish a marathon. Last spring I ran in a relay race and my 5 mile leg would far exceed any distance I had ever run. Worse still, on race day our team botched the transitions and I ended running 6.5 miles. But to amazement, I did it! It nearly an hour and half and I threw up that afternoon, but still - the sense of accomplishment!
This fall when marathon registration opened I wanted to get into the half-marathon event. This proved more complicated than I expected and I was warned only half of the people wanting a half-marathon bib actually get one. And here's where the power of persuasion altered my course: the very friendly, convincing and brimming-with-certitude woman at the marathon office talked me into signing up for the full race.
The clincher was a class offered for first-time marathoners. I signed up immediately and spent the following days and weeks excited for the path I'd chosen. I started running at the gym more regularly, which is to say I actually went occasionally instead of thinking about and finding a reason not to. At this point, I could run 2 miles in at a 10-12 mile pace. I found this remarkable a point of pride because only a few earlier I was begging the digital display on the treadmill to tick off each 100th of a mile.
The class was set to start in January, giving me a couple of months to make progress on my own. I was on my way.
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