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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.