It was a month ago that I ran the Veteran’s Day 10K and I have been in a bit of funk ever since. Deciding to run home from the race proved to be a bad idea and I didn’t recover from that weekend very well. My paces have been off (think 11:30 to 12:30 pace…that’s slower than when I started running four years ago) and I just haven’t been excited about running.
Perhaps the most important factor of this running funk is that my confidence has reached a low point. What am I doing? Why do I care if I can run a marathon, let alone, in under 4 hours? What’s the point of running if I am going to feel like this?
Let me be clear: it wasn’t the slower paces, necessarily. I was putting all my effort in to faster paces – paces that felt as fast as the ones I had been hitting (somewhere in the mid- to low 9 minute mile range) and then I look at my watch and see 10:55. I was frustrated that I knew I had been running faster paces and that the effort didn’t seem to be paying off. Why push so hard for something that was nearly two minutes slower than I was capable of a month ago?
Anyway, I missed some runs. I got discouraged mid-run a few times and just stopped, opting to walk home and grumble than finish a run that felt horrible. But, that would only frustrate me further. Something needed to change.
I started to ignore the speed workouts and just go out for miles. I told myself it didn’t matter how fast or slow I was as long as I was out there getting the miles, everything would be OK. I even turned off the mile split feature on my Garmin. If I’m working hard and I feel like I am putting in a solid effort, I didn’t want to get discouraged if my actual pace didn’t match my perceived effort. In fact, I didn’t want to know until the run was over.
These things have worked. I’m feeling, and more importantly, running much better. My 16 miler over the weekend went well and the 20 miler the weekend before was also a solid effort.
The real take home lesson for me is that structured speedwork just isn’t for me. Tempo runs done by feel (run “comfortably hard”) and fartlek runs (run every time a song is one during the All Songs Considered podcast) work better than specific interval sessions (run 1 mile at marathon goal pace three times with half mile recovery). Not hitting the paces that I think I am supposed to be hitting just frustrates me.
Not to get too mushy but running is supposed to make me feel good about myself not make me beat myself up for not meeting expectations.
Daily Dozen:
XT @ lunch
Showing posts with label bad run. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bad run. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
To Run or Not to Run
Well, that is the question, isn't it?
Last week was a great week of running. I ran for 52 miles total and during/after each run I felt strong and confident. I was hitting the right paces on the faster runs and the easy runs felt east. My long run on Sunday was a little under pace but I finished the 16 miles feeling like I had really accomplished something.
This week, however, hasn't been as great. Tuesday, I went out to do some interval work at marathon pace and noticed that my left shin was hurting. The pain was causing me to limp slightly so I made the decision to skip the run, thinking that maybe I'd try again the next day. When I got up Wednesday the sharp pain was no longer there but it was feeling a bit tender so I went ahead with the planned rest day. I ended up doing quite a bit of walking so I didn't feel too bad about skipping the speedwork for the week.
Thursday I did a 7 miler that was OK. It wasn't a great run but it also wasn't a bad run. My shin was feeling OK during and after the run; however, when I went down to the gym in the afternoon if started to hurt sharply again. Uh oh!
So, what do I do? I decided to get a good night's sleep and see how I felt in the morning.
Today, Friday, I planned to run to work. Saturday is to be a rest day. Sunday I have signed up for a 10K in order to judge my current fitness and see if a sub-4 marathon is in sight. On the one hand, Sunday's race is important from a mental aspect. It'll be a tremendous boost to run a great time for the 10K and know that my speed is there for the sub-4 attempt in a few months. However, this isn't a goal race so I am a little nervous about taking another day off during the training cycle.
I woke up convinced I was going to run. By the time I made it downstairs, I had decided not to run. I think I'm being smart about a small injury so that it doesn't turn in to a larger injury but that doesn't keep the doubts at bay - What am I doing? Who do I think I am attempting to run sub-4? I'm not a fast runner! Why is a sub-4 time so important? I'm just not made for running fast. I should just run Charleston for fun - slow and fun. I can't do this so why try?
It is hard no to lose sight of the big picture (I was running strong going in to this marathon training cycle, I've been running strong up until now. One bad week, a few missed runs - not that big a deal) when the immediate view feels so all encompassing (oh my god, I'm injured, when will I ever be able to run again. Probably never. Why is this happening to me?). However, one missed run, one very mild case of shin splints isn't going to make or break me as a runner so I might as well enjoy the extra rest and start focusing on Sunday's PR attempt at the 10K.
Confidence and strength, not fear, that's the lesson I want to learn during this training cycle.
Last week was a great week of running. I ran for 52 miles total and during/after each run I felt strong and confident. I was hitting the right paces on the faster runs and the easy runs felt east. My long run on Sunday was a little under pace but I finished the 16 miles feeling like I had really accomplished something.
This week, however, hasn't been as great. Tuesday, I went out to do some interval work at marathon pace and noticed that my left shin was hurting. The pain was causing me to limp slightly so I made the decision to skip the run, thinking that maybe I'd try again the next day. When I got up Wednesday the sharp pain was no longer there but it was feeling a bit tender so I went ahead with the planned rest day. I ended up doing quite a bit of walking so I didn't feel too bad about skipping the speedwork for the week.
Thursday I did a 7 miler that was OK. It wasn't a great run but it also wasn't a bad run. My shin was feeling OK during and after the run; however, when I went down to the gym in the afternoon if started to hurt sharply again. Uh oh!
So, what do I do? I decided to get a good night's sleep and see how I felt in the morning.
Today, Friday, I planned to run to work. Saturday is to be a rest day. Sunday I have signed up for a 10K in order to judge my current fitness and see if a sub-4 marathon is in sight. On the one hand, Sunday's race is important from a mental aspect. It'll be a tremendous boost to run a great time for the 10K and know that my speed is there for the sub-4 attempt in a few months. However, this isn't a goal race so I am a little nervous about taking another day off during the training cycle.
I woke up convinced I was going to run. By the time I made it downstairs, I had decided not to run. I think I'm being smart about a small injury so that it doesn't turn in to a larger injury but that doesn't keep the doubts at bay - What am I doing? Who do I think I am attempting to run sub-4? I'm not a fast runner! Why is a sub-4 time so important? I'm just not made for running fast. I should just run Charleston for fun - slow and fun. I can't do this so why try?
It is hard no to lose sight of the big picture (I was running strong going in to this marathon training cycle, I've been running strong up until now. One bad week, a few missed runs - not that big a deal) when the immediate view feels so all encompassing (oh my god, I'm injured, when will I ever be able to run again. Probably never. Why is this happening to me?). However, one missed run, one very mild case of shin splints isn't going to make or break me as a runner so I might as well enjoy the extra rest and start focusing on Sunday's PR attempt at the 10K.
Confidence and strength, not fear, that's the lesson I want to learn during this training cycle.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Diagnosis ?
It has been a strange few weeks for me running-wise.
Let me set the record straight – I’ve had some good runs and even some memorable runs (thanks Mom!). However, June was also the worst month of running for me since I started 4 years ago. It wasn’t my pace. It wasn’t my mileage. (Although neither of those were spectacular). It is the only time that I have dreaded running. I’ve hated the bike paths. I’ve resented waking up early. I’ve cursed the hills.
So what was going wrong?
I wasn’t sleeping well because of work and so I wasn’t running at all or running well when I would try to get out on the trails. In fact, I’ve had quite a few “stop-and-starts” meaning I’d get out to run, get anywhere from a whole mile or just a few steps before I would just decide to stop. Once I stopped because my heart rate shot up almost immediately and I took that as a sign that I needed to rest/sleep more than I needed to run. Another time I ran a full mile and I simply decided that I had had enough. I really didn’t want to be out there so I stopped, turned around and walked home.
Stopping mid-run because of a high heart-rate is just smart. Stopping mid-run because I just didn’t want to be out there, well, that’s unusual for me. In the past when I’ve had to talk myself in to getting out on the paths, once I started I would feel better and even if I never felt super-great on the run, well by the end I would at least feel accomplished and proud. This time, the time when I just stopped, I didn’t feel anything in particular. I stopped running, started walking, made it back to the house and fell instantly asleep. I didn’t even realize I was that tired.
To me, these are the symptoms of over-training and being burnt-out. Usually I can’t wait for the weekend long runs and now I have to convince myself to get out there.
Is it the heat? Is it that I need a break? I don’t know.
I haven’t been running like I had hoped leading up to my first venture in to the world of ultra-marathon running and that has both bummed me out and made me very nervous for this coming Saturday. I don’t really know what is going to happen. I had a good base going to the marathon in May and I did my best to balance recovery from that PR-race and maintaining a certain level of running-fitness for the 50K attempt next weekend. That balance never really happened and now I’m nervous and a little afraid. I have no idea what is going to happen this weekend. I did what I could be it was far less than I had hoped/planned.
So maybe it is fear?
No matter what, no matter the heat, the burn-out or the fear, Saturday is going to happen and I am going to give it my best shot. Even if I end up walking most of it, by Saturday afternoon I will have run an ultra-marathon.
Daily Dozen:
4.27 miles @ easy pace this morning
Strength training @ lunch hour (arms only)
Let me set the record straight – I’ve had some good runs and even some memorable runs (thanks Mom!). However, June was also the worst month of running for me since I started 4 years ago. It wasn’t my pace. It wasn’t my mileage. (Although neither of those were spectacular). It is the only time that I have dreaded running. I’ve hated the bike paths. I’ve resented waking up early. I’ve cursed the hills.
So what was going wrong?
I wasn’t sleeping well because of work and so I wasn’t running at all or running well when I would try to get out on the trails. In fact, I’ve had quite a few “stop-and-starts” meaning I’d get out to run, get anywhere from a whole mile or just a few steps before I would just decide to stop. Once I stopped because my heart rate shot up almost immediately and I took that as a sign that I needed to rest/sleep more than I needed to run. Another time I ran a full mile and I simply decided that I had had enough. I really didn’t want to be out there so I stopped, turned around and walked home.
Stopping mid-run because of a high heart-rate is just smart. Stopping mid-run because I just didn’t want to be out there, well, that’s unusual for me. In the past when I’ve had to talk myself in to getting out on the paths, once I started I would feel better and even if I never felt super-great on the run, well by the end I would at least feel accomplished and proud. This time, the time when I just stopped, I didn’t feel anything in particular. I stopped running, started walking, made it back to the house and fell instantly asleep. I didn’t even realize I was that tired.
To me, these are the symptoms of over-training and being burnt-out. Usually I can’t wait for the weekend long runs and now I have to convince myself to get out there.
Is it the heat? Is it that I need a break? I don’t know.
I haven’t been running like I had hoped leading up to my first venture in to the world of ultra-marathon running and that has both bummed me out and made me very nervous for this coming Saturday. I don’t really know what is going to happen. I had a good base going to the marathon in May and I did my best to balance recovery from that PR-race and maintaining a certain level of running-fitness for the 50K attempt next weekend. That balance never really happened and now I’m nervous and a little afraid. I have no idea what is going to happen this weekend. I did what I could be it was far less than I had hoped/planned.
So maybe it is fear?
No matter what, no matter the heat, the burn-out or the fear, Saturday is going to happen and I am going to give it my best shot. Even if I end up walking most of it, by Saturday afternoon I will have run an ultra-marathon.
Daily Dozen:
4.27 miles @ easy pace this morning
Strength training @ lunch hour (arms only)
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
The Difference a Day Makes
Yesterday I woke up and just didn’t feel like running so I didn’t. I went one mile of my planned 10, heard the one mile beep on my Garmin, looked down saw the time and just stopped running. I walked back to the house. Today I woke up and couldn’t wait to get out the door. I did 6.5 miles and would have kept going if it hadn’t been time to get ready for work. In fact, as I got closer to the house I made the decision to pull a double today and run during my lunch break.
So what was the difference?
The weather was about the same both mornings – high 60s/low 70s with gross humidity. I got about the same amount of sleep both nights prior to the runs – 7.5 hours-ish. However, dinner the night before may have had something to do with (or, everything).
Monday night was happy hour at a bar where my husband and split a plate of (yummy!) nachos, sliders and a pitcher of beer. Although this doesn’t happen often and isn’t a dinner I am particularly proud of, I have done it plenty of times. I woke up Tuesday morning feeling drained and completely apathetic toward running.
…and my “run” reflected that feeling.
Tuesday evening we had breakfast for dinner (three pancakes and three sausage links), a bowl of baked swiss chard chips and a slice of Tomato Soup Cake. While not a gold star dinner, it beat the pants off the previous night’s bar food nosh-fest. This morning I woke up and felt good.
…and my RUN reflected how I felt.
It is a lesson I learn over and over again: Eat bad, feel bad. Eat well, feel well. It really isn’t rocket science but constantly need to remind myself.
I recently read a forum post about the idea of “eating to run, not running to eat.” In other words, runners often say they run so that they can eat whatever they want without gaining weight. When you are running 50 miles a week, a Big Mac isn’t going to push the scales up. However, we runners also pay excruciating attention to our on-the-run nutrition and fueling. We have fueling plans and hydration plans for races – specific miles to eat gels, alternating Gatorade and water at aid stations, packing gummy bears and orange slices. I would make sense to apply the same passion and interest to our pre-run nutrition as well.
Lesson Re-Learned: Eat to Run (and not the other way around)
Daily Dozen:
6.48 miles @ morning run
Planned, 2 mile run/walk hill intervals on the treadmill & stretching @ lunch break
So what was the difference?
The weather was about the same both mornings – high 60s/low 70s with gross humidity. I got about the same amount of sleep both nights prior to the runs – 7.5 hours-ish. However, dinner the night before may have had something to do with (or, everything).
Monday night was happy hour at a bar where my husband and split a plate of (yummy!) nachos, sliders and a pitcher of beer. Although this doesn’t happen often and isn’t a dinner I am particularly proud of, I have done it plenty of times. I woke up Tuesday morning feeling drained and completely apathetic toward running.
…and my “run” reflected that feeling.
Tuesday evening we had breakfast for dinner (three pancakes and three sausage links), a bowl of baked swiss chard chips and a slice of Tomato Soup Cake. While not a gold star dinner, it beat the pants off the previous night’s bar food nosh-fest. This morning I woke up and felt good.
…and my RUN reflected how I felt.
It is a lesson I learn over and over again: Eat bad, feel bad. Eat well, feel well. It really isn’t rocket science but constantly need to remind myself.
I recently read a forum post about the idea of “eating to run, not running to eat.” In other words, runners often say they run so that they can eat whatever they want without gaining weight. When you are running 50 miles a week, a Big Mac isn’t going to push the scales up. However, we runners also pay excruciating attention to our on-the-run nutrition and fueling. We have fueling plans and hydration plans for races – specific miles to eat gels, alternating Gatorade and water at aid stations, packing gummy bears and orange slices. I would make sense to apply the same passion and interest to our pre-run nutrition as well.
Lesson Re-Learned: Eat to Run (and not the other way around)
Daily Dozen:
6.48 miles @ morning run
Planned, 2 mile run/walk hill intervals on the treadmill & stretching @ lunch break
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Doubt
This past Sunday I woke up excited to try my first long run “ultra-style.” In other words, I was going out for 4 hours with the intention of doing run/walk intervals, 5 minutes running following by one minute walking repeated 40 times, and walking every incline, big or small. I got a late start, not getting out the door until just after 8 so I was going to be battling the heat and humidity along with the time/distance. However, I had a handheld of water, a camelbak full of water, food and a plan.
I headed east along the Custis Bike Trail toward the Potomac River and then turned on to the Mount Vernon Bike Trail going south. Even though it was hot, the bike path was shaded a decent amount and I felt good. I followed my run/walk/walk up inclines plan and things were going well.
After one hour, I took a longer walk break to eat a peanut butter bar.
The sun was beating down by this point but I was still feeling good and run/walk-ing well. My pace was nothing to be amazed by, probably a steady 11:00 minute/mile during the runs and a fast walk during the breaks. I also made it a point to power-hike the inclines.
At the two hour point, I turned around and headed back toward home and took a longer walk break to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I was feeling pretty good at this point. I had done around 9.5 miles in 2 hours. For me, during long runs, the hardest part is just getting to the halfway point. In my mind, getting halfway means that the only thing left to do is make it home…and I always make it home. The sun was getting higher and the stretches with shade were getting further apart but I continue drinking every time I stopped to walk.
However, the wheels started to come off about an hour later. Somewhere around the 13 mile point my legs were not moving as quickly as I wanted them to and the running portions were getting harder. I decided to take a long walk break, sipping water as I went. I didn’t feel thirsty but I drank anyway. The heat also started getting to me.
This is when doubt started entering my head.
What am I doing? I asked myself. Why am I out here? I can’t run an ultra without months of training! I’m still recovering from the marathon. Wait, the marathon…two weeks ago I ran 26.2 miles in 4 hours 7 minutes and today I am struggling to finish half that….at a much, slower, deliberately slower, pace. What was a I thinking signing up for this ultra?
I decided to call it quits. I was about 2 miles from the Arlington National Cemetery metro station. I decided to run/walk to it and then call it a day. I debated just toughing it out but I decided to make the “smart” decision and not push myself. Live to fight another day, I told myself and I felt good about the decision.
I made it to the metro station, thanked all that was holy that I had remembered to throw a few bucks in my camelbak, and jumped on the next train. I was a little bummed that I didn’t make it the full distance but I felt good about the 15.5 miles (in 3 hours 19 minutes) that I had covered. It is going to be a hot day when I run the ultra so it was good practice, I thought to myself.
Unfortunately, I had to transfer trains and I had to wait 12 minutes for a train. As I waited on the bottom level of the Rosslyn metro station I noticed that my ears started to feel clogged. That’s unusual! I was listening to a podcast and it increasingly sounded like I was hearing it while holding my head under water. Then, my vision started going black. Oh my god! I am going to faint, I thought, so this is what it feels like to pass out.
Because my ears were clogged, I could hear my breathing very well and the one thing I noticed (other than how loud it sounded) was that it was actually pretty even. I told myself to keep calm and to think. My vision still getting dimmer and dimmer, I started looking around – the bench was full but I could sit on the floor (I was leaning on the wall). No, don’t sit on the floor, if I sit on the floor I’m going to pass out. Bad idea. I looked up and I still had 7 minutes until my train would arrive. I started paying attention to the people around me – when I pass out, which one is going to get to me first, which one is going to call for help, who looks like they would be good in crisis?
I honestly evaluated all the people on the platform around me (all tourists) and decided that I would have better chances upstairs at the metro kiosk with an employee or outside entirely. Don’t panic. Stay calm. I repeated this over and over to myself. I listened to my breathing – it was so loud in my ears. I don’t remember my heart racing but my breathing was steady.
Alright, pushing myself off the wall, eyes down and focused on each step my foot was taking, just get upstairs. If I pass out, I want to be as close to above ground as possible. If I can make it all the way out of the station, I’ll call Mike and he can come pick me up. I was making deals with myself – don’t pass out until you see sunlight or an employee. Just keep walking.
And, then, just like that…my vision came back. My ears felt better (still a little clogged). Walking was helping. I kept pacing along the platform, afraid that if I stopped I would start to feel bad again. I also started sweating even more. It was like walking flipped a switch and my body was functioning properly again.
My train finally pulled in to the station, which means I was fighting off fainting for over 5 minutes. I jumped on the train and couldn’t wait to go the four stops. I tried to look as normal as possible even though I was absolutely soaked in sweat and who knows what my face looked like (I’m not good at hiding my emotions – they are always written all over my face). I’m sure I looked frightened and I was!
I made it to the Ballston metro station and high-tailed it out to the street. I called Mike to pick me up because I didn’t want to chance the walk home. If I passed out in a neighborhood, who knows how long it would be until someone noticed me. As I waited for Mike to drive to the station, I started to feel really scared. No longer faced with the crisis, it started to hit me just what had happened to me, just how close I had come to something very serious happening to me.
Mike got me home and I showered and changed. I felt pretty off for the rest of the day – slight headache and just whole-body tired. I’ve been thinking about what I did wrong – more water, more often, saltier foods (pretzels were in my pack but I hadn’t eaten them), run earlier to avoid the worst of the day’s heat.
As I get farther from Sunday’s experience, I am slowly gaining back my confidence but I still have quite a few doubts. I’ll attempt another long run this weekend (much earlier in the day though) and if it doesn’t go well, I may have to face facts – I may not be ready to run an ultra marathon so soon after a marathon. I’m worried…but hopeful.
Daily Dozen:
No running – my body needs a break
Slow walk and stretching @ lunch hour
I headed east along the Custis Bike Trail toward the Potomac River and then turned on to the Mount Vernon Bike Trail going south. Even though it was hot, the bike path was shaded a decent amount and I felt good. I followed my run/walk/walk up inclines plan and things were going well.
After one hour, I took a longer walk break to eat a peanut butter bar.
The sun was beating down by this point but I was still feeling good and run/walk-ing well. My pace was nothing to be amazed by, probably a steady 11:00 minute/mile during the runs and a fast walk during the breaks. I also made it a point to power-hike the inclines.
At the two hour point, I turned around and headed back toward home and took a longer walk break to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I was feeling pretty good at this point. I had done around 9.5 miles in 2 hours. For me, during long runs, the hardest part is just getting to the halfway point. In my mind, getting halfway means that the only thing left to do is make it home…and I always make it home. The sun was getting higher and the stretches with shade were getting further apart but I continue drinking every time I stopped to walk.
However, the wheels started to come off about an hour later. Somewhere around the 13 mile point my legs were not moving as quickly as I wanted them to and the running portions were getting harder. I decided to take a long walk break, sipping water as I went. I didn’t feel thirsty but I drank anyway. The heat also started getting to me.
This is when doubt started entering my head.
What am I doing? I asked myself. Why am I out here? I can’t run an ultra without months of training! I’m still recovering from the marathon. Wait, the marathon…two weeks ago I ran 26.2 miles in 4 hours 7 minutes and today I am struggling to finish half that….at a much, slower, deliberately slower, pace. What was a I thinking signing up for this ultra?
I decided to call it quits. I was about 2 miles from the Arlington National Cemetery metro station. I decided to run/walk to it and then call it a day. I debated just toughing it out but I decided to make the “smart” decision and not push myself. Live to fight another day, I told myself and I felt good about the decision.
I made it to the metro station, thanked all that was holy that I had remembered to throw a few bucks in my camelbak, and jumped on the next train. I was a little bummed that I didn’t make it the full distance but I felt good about the 15.5 miles (in 3 hours 19 minutes) that I had covered. It is going to be a hot day when I run the ultra so it was good practice, I thought to myself.
Unfortunately, I had to transfer trains and I had to wait 12 minutes for a train. As I waited on the bottom level of the Rosslyn metro station I noticed that my ears started to feel clogged. That’s unusual! I was listening to a podcast and it increasingly sounded like I was hearing it while holding my head under water. Then, my vision started going black. Oh my god! I am going to faint, I thought, so this is what it feels like to pass out.
Because my ears were clogged, I could hear my breathing very well and the one thing I noticed (other than how loud it sounded) was that it was actually pretty even. I told myself to keep calm and to think. My vision still getting dimmer and dimmer, I started looking around – the bench was full but I could sit on the floor (I was leaning on the wall). No, don’t sit on the floor, if I sit on the floor I’m going to pass out. Bad idea. I looked up and I still had 7 minutes until my train would arrive. I started paying attention to the people around me – when I pass out, which one is going to get to me first, which one is going to call for help, who looks like they would be good in crisis?
I honestly evaluated all the people on the platform around me (all tourists) and decided that I would have better chances upstairs at the metro kiosk with an employee or outside entirely. Don’t panic. Stay calm. I repeated this over and over to myself. I listened to my breathing – it was so loud in my ears. I don’t remember my heart racing but my breathing was steady.
Alright, pushing myself off the wall, eyes down and focused on each step my foot was taking, just get upstairs. If I pass out, I want to be as close to above ground as possible. If I can make it all the way out of the station, I’ll call Mike and he can come pick me up. I was making deals with myself – don’t pass out until you see sunlight or an employee. Just keep walking.
And, then, just like that…my vision came back. My ears felt better (still a little clogged). Walking was helping. I kept pacing along the platform, afraid that if I stopped I would start to feel bad again. I also started sweating even more. It was like walking flipped a switch and my body was functioning properly again.
My train finally pulled in to the station, which means I was fighting off fainting for over 5 minutes. I jumped on the train and couldn’t wait to go the four stops. I tried to look as normal as possible even though I was absolutely soaked in sweat and who knows what my face looked like (I’m not good at hiding my emotions – they are always written all over my face). I’m sure I looked frightened and I was!
I made it to the Ballston metro station and high-tailed it out to the street. I called Mike to pick me up because I didn’t want to chance the walk home. If I passed out in a neighborhood, who knows how long it would be until someone noticed me. As I waited for Mike to drive to the station, I started to feel really scared. No longer faced with the crisis, it started to hit me just what had happened to me, just how close I had come to something very serious happening to me.
Mike got me home and I showered and changed. I felt pretty off for the rest of the day – slight headache and just whole-body tired. I’ve been thinking about what I did wrong – more water, more often, saltier foods (pretzels were in my pack but I hadn’t eaten them), run earlier to avoid the worst of the day’s heat.
As I get farther from Sunday’s experience, I am slowly gaining back my confidence but I still have quite a few doubts. I’ll attempt another long run this weekend (much earlier in the day though) and if it doesn’t go well, I may have to face facts – I may not be ready to run an ultra marathon so soon after a marathon. I’m worried…but hopeful.
Daily Dozen:
No running – my body needs a break
Slow walk and stretching @ lunch hour
Friday, May 14, 2010
What is up with that?
I’m anxious about Sunday’s marathon.
I keep trying to convince myself to be confident about the race. Nashille’s 22.2 miler was a great “last” long run. I have the distance in my legs and I’ve been resting well so I am primed for a great race. I tell myself that over and over.
Still, I’ve got butterflies in my stomach when I think about running another marathon so soon after the aborted Nashville race. I’m not truly recovered from a 22 miler AT race pace (the longest I’ve seen in other plans in maybe 16 miles within a 20 miler). It’s been too long since I was able to run consistently (early April before I started the taper for Nashville) and not counting Nashville I haven’t run more than 8 miles since early April. I haven’t been eating or sleeping well (5 lb. gain since Nashville). Last week was a good week of running and I felt like my old self but this week has just been…strange, for lack of a better term.
Sunday, Monday and Tuesday I went out for a shorter “long” run and two easy runs in the 3 to 4 mile range, respectively. Although I was aiming for an easy, slow pace and I tried to hold my pace at a slow pace, each run was at a 10 minute average pace. That’s way faster than I was running easy runs before (10:30 to 11:00 minute pace).
Wednesday and Thursday I skipped running and allow myself to sleep in (9.5 hours of sleep both nights – fantastic!).
Today, Friday, I went out for super slow, super easy 3 miler just to shake out my legs and get them primed for Sunday. “Ugh” is the only appropriate word to describe how I feel during this run. I felt like I was running through knee-deep quicksand and yet, everytime my Garmin beeped off a mile, my pace was in the 10:00 to 10:15 range. In fact, I ended with an average pace of 10:06. What is up with that? I really was telling myself to slow down and take it easy. I thought I was.
On top of that, as I was walking back to the house I realized that I felt better after that dreadful run than I did the last few days with no run and tons of sleep. Seriously, what is up with that?
I’m really not sure how to feel about Sunday’s 26.2 miles. I hate going in to a race without confidence but I am really confused!
Daily Dozen:
3.32 miles run in early morning
XT (walking on treadmill and stretching) @ lunch hour
I keep trying to convince myself to be confident about the race. Nashille’s 22.2 miler was a great “last” long run. I have the distance in my legs and I’ve been resting well so I am primed for a great race. I tell myself that over and over.
Still, I’ve got butterflies in my stomach when I think about running another marathon so soon after the aborted Nashville race. I’m not truly recovered from a 22 miler AT race pace (the longest I’ve seen in other plans in maybe 16 miles within a 20 miler). It’s been too long since I was able to run consistently (early April before I started the taper for Nashville) and not counting Nashville I haven’t run more than 8 miles since early April. I haven’t been eating or sleeping well (5 lb. gain since Nashville). Last week was a good week of running and I felt like my old self but this week has just been…strange, for lack of a better term.
Sunday, Monday and Tuesday I went out for a shorter “long” run and two easy runs in the 3 to 4 mile range, respectively. Although I was aiming for an easy, slow pace and I tried to hold my pace at a slow pace, each run was at a 10 minute average pace. That’s way faster than I was running easy runs before (10:30 to 11:00 minute pace).
Wednesday and Thursday I skipped running and allow myself to sleep in (9.5 hours of sleep both nights – fantastic!).
Today, Friday, I went out for super slow, super easy 3 miler just to shake out my legs and get them primed for Sunday. “Ugh” is the only appropriate word to describe how I feel during this run. I felt like I was running through knee-deep quicksand and yet, everytime my Garmin beeped off a mile, my pace was in the 10:00 to 10:15 range. In fact, I ended with an average pace of 10:06. What is up with that? I really was telling myself to slow down and take it easy. I thought I was.
On top of that, as I was walking back to the house I realized that I felt better after that dreadful run than I did the last few days with no run and tons of sleep. Seriously, what is up with that?
I’m really not sure how to feel about Sunday’s 26.2 miles. I hate going in to a race without confidence but I am really confused!
Daily Dozen:
3.32 miles run in early morning
XT (walking on treadmill and stretching) @ lunch hour
Monday, April 5, 2010
A Tale of Two Runs
It turns out my body was going to make the decision for me. (Yes, I should have known that all along).
I woke up Saturday morning ready to face a 20 miler. I dressed, I ate, I packed my pockets w/ Fig Newtons, and I headed out the door. The morning was cloudy and the day was a bit cooler than I was expecting but it was a good temperature for running. I set off, plotting various routes.
The first mile went off well. I was enthusiastic and confident. However, that proved to be a short-lived experience. My heartrate was increased from the beginning of the run and by mile 2 I realized that it just wasn’t going to be my day. The decision to not run long was not a difficult one for me to make, unfortunately. Other days it would have been a struggle between my brain, my heart and my legs but not that day. I would live to run another day, I decided and then I headed home racking up only 5.6 of the 20 planned miles.
Despite the easy decision, I couldn’t shake the feeling of sadness once I got home. I quit and there are no other ways to describe it. I may have made the “right” decisions but it still means that the right decision was to quit.
As I threw my sweaty (but not sweat I had earned, I thought) clothes in to the laundry basket and climbed in to a hot shower, I was a little down on myself. I’ve run through worse conditions, through legs that were more tired. I’ve willed myself through much tougher mental roadblocks. What was going on that I quit so easily?
I never did find the answer. I went on with my day and slowly the disappointment and sadness melted away being replaced by more important things like spending time with family.
I woke up the next day much earlier than I expected and the first thought that popped in to my head – I want to run. I crawled out of bed, stumbled around getting dressed in the dark and snuck out of my in-laws house, ready for a run in the country. The difference between running that morning and running the previous morning was stark. Where I felt sluggish and tired the day before, I was smooth and energized the next morning. Where I regretted not having the time to run longer that morning, the previous morning I regretted making plans around a long run that ended up being a bust so I had too much time. Where as my pace never warmed up past a crawl on Saturday morning, Sunday morning there was a spring in my step and I just couldn’t hold back.
I ended up running under 10 minute miles without every intending to run at my marathon goal pace. I just started running and I settled in to a fast pace. I don’t’ know that I could have slowed myself down even if I had wanted to because the pace felt so right. Slowing down would have been impossible.
One of the things I love about running faster paces is that there is span of time after the struggle of warming up but before the paces catches up to your muscles and forces you to slow down when the possibilities seem limitless. I really can run close to a 4 hour marathon. After this marathon I really will run a sub-4 marathon. I should sign up for the ultra-marathon I have been eyeballing. I should just keep running and running and running and…
Before I knew I was close to home and I reined in my speed-induced daydreaming. Back to reality, I told myself as I turned down the home stretching, forcing my legs to slow. I didn’t want to experience a blow up or a slow down. I wanted those possibilities to remain just that…possible.
Both Saturday and Sunday, I ended my runs on my own terms. Both times, I made the decision to stop and both times it was the “right” decision to make. Honestly, I’m not even sure what my point is here. I’m sure there is a lesson in there somewhere. What I do know is that Sunday’s run wiped Saturday’s run off the radar and thank goodness for that.
Daily Dozen:
5.22 miles – feeling good, running strong
I woke up Saturday morning ready to face a 20 miler. I dressed, I ate, I packed my pockets w/ Fig Newtons, and I headed out the door. The morning was cloudy and the day was a bit cooler than I was expecting but it was a good temperature for running. I set off, plotting various routes.
The first mile went off well. I was enthusiastic and confident. However, that proved to be a short-lived experience. My heartrate was increased from the beginning of the run and by mile 2 I realized that it just wasn’t going to be my day. The decision to not run long was not a difficult one for me to make, unfortunately. Other days it would have been a struggle between my brain, my heart and my legs but not that day. I would live to run another day, I decided and then I headed home racking up only 5.6 of the 20 planned miles.
Despite the easy decision, I couldn’t shake the feeling of sadness once I got home. I quit and there are no other ways to describe it. I may have made the “right” decisions but it still means that the right decision was to quit.
As I threw my sweaty (but not sweat I had earned, I thought) clothes in to the laundry basket and climbed in to a hot shower, I was a little down on myself. I’ve run through worse conditions, through legs that were more tired. I’ve willed myself through much tougher mental roadblocks. What was going on that I quit so easily?
I never did find the answer. I went on with my day and slowly the disappointment and sadness melted away being replaced by more important things like spending time with family.
I woke up the next day much earlier than I expected and the first thought that popped in to my head – I want to run. I crawled out of bed, stumbled around getting dressed in the dark and snuck out of my in-laws house, ready for a run in the country. The difference between running that morning and running the previous morning was stark. Where I felt sluggish and tired the day before, I was smooth and energized the next morning. Where I regretted not having the time to run longer that morning, the previous morning I regretted making plans around a long run that ended up being a bust so I had too much time. Where as my pace never warmed up past a crawl on Saturday morning, Sunday morning there was a spring in my step and I just couldn’t hold back.
I ended up running under 10 minute miles without every intending to run at my marathon goal pace. I just started running and I settled in to a fast pace. I don’t’ know that I could have slowed myself down even if I had wanted to because the pace felt so right. Slowing down would have been impossible.
One of the things I love about running faster paces is that there is span of time after the struggle of warming up but before the paces catches up to your muscles and forces you to slow down when the possibilities seem limitless. I really can run close to a 4 hour marathon. After this marathon I really will run a sub-4 marathon. I should sign up for the ultra-marathon I have been eyeballing. I should just keep running and running and running and…
Before I knew I was close to home and I reined in my speed-induced daydreaming. Back to reality, I told myself as I turned down the home stretching, forcing my legs to slow. I didn’t want to experience a blow up or a slow down. I wanted those possibilities to remain just that…possible.
Both Saturday and Sunday, I ended my runs on my own terms. Both times, I made the decision to stop and both times it was the “right” decision to make. Honestly, I’m not even sure what my point is here. I’m sure there is a lesson in there somewhere. What I do know is that Sunday’s run wiped Saturday’s run off the radar and thank goodness for that.
Daily Dozen:
5.22 miles – feeling good, running strong
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Love-Hate
I’ve had a love-hate relationship with running these passed two weeks. I have been back in a groove in terms of consistency. For about a month now, I’ve only been able to run on and off due to injury recovery time, snow and a little bit of good ol’ fashioned laziness. However, I’m back to running nearly every day and mentally, I’m loving it.
And yet…
Although I am back to running consistently, I am struggling physically. My pace is much slower than it was back in January and I am really tired. Some times it is just fatigue in my legs and other times, I have little energy. Where have my speed and gumption gone? Did I really lose them that quickly? Ugh!
I tell myself that it’s OK; that I have permission to build back up slow and steady; that no matter what pace I am running, at least I am running. I tell myself these things over and over again and one of these days, I’ll even start believing it.
It is frustrating to feel like I have been set far back from where I was and have the date of the marathon fast approaching. I’ve revised my long run, I’ll still be able to get in some good 18 and 20 miles and I know I’ll be fine (maybe not running as close to a 4 hour marathon as I was hoping but fine nonetheless). Yet, there is a little voice inside me casting doubt and bumming me out when I am struggling to complete a run.
Let me clarify this last point. I haven’t been struggling due to an injury or pain but rather my legs just feel so leaden at times. I am getting a good amount of sleep most nights, I am eating as “healthy” as I normally do (are you going to begrudge me a cookie after coming in from a 2 hour run?) and I haven’t been doing anything out of the ordinary with cross-training or strength training. My paces have been much slower. I have no way of explaining why I am so tired during so many of my runs. Even more frustrating is that it seems to come and go; when I think I have finally warmed up and found a good rhythm my legs will suddenly fill with wet sand.
As I’ve mentioned in a previous post or two, I have also been finding new routes through the surrounding neighborhoods because the bike paths that I normally run on have been impassable due to snow, ice and fallen trees.
When my runs are good, I find that this spirit of discovery and exploration provides a nice spring in my step. However, when I’m struggling to run because my legs are fatigued I find new routes to be exhausting mentally. I am constantly calculating distances in my head and the questions seem endless – when should I turn around, when should I turn down a side street, how far will this road take before I have to alter my route, where will this road lead – the whole time being painfully aware of the absolute shortest route back home and a premature to my run. I find myself constantly having to convince my legs not to take that route and every turn, every side street, every unexpected hill restarts the dialogue.
And yet…
I haven’t bailed on a run yet. That’s something to be proud of and today’s run actually felt much easier. I felt more like myself out there running in the cold, wet morning. It is good to be back (and fingers crossed that it lasts).
Daily Dozen:
6 miles @ early morning
And yet…
Although I am back to running consistently, I am struggling physically. My pace is much slower than it was back in January and I am really tired. Some times it is just fatigue in my legs and other times, I have little energy. Where have my speed and gumption gone? Did I really lose them that quickly? Ugh!
I tell myself that it’s OK; that I have permission to build back up slow and steady; that no matter what pace I am running, at least I am running. I tell myself these things over and over again and one of these days, I’ll even start believing it.
It is frustrating to feel like I have been set far back from where I was and have the date of the marathon fast approaching. I’ve revised my long run, I’ll still be able to get in some good 18 and 20 miles and I know I’ll be fine (maybe not running as close to a 4 hour marathon as I was hoping but fine nonetheless). Yet, there is a little voice inside me casting doubt and bumming me out when I am struggling to complete a run.
Let me clarify this last point. I haven’t been struggling due to an injury or pain but rather my legs just feel so leaden at times. I am getting a good amount of sleep most nights, I am eating as “healthy” as I normally do (are you going to begrudge me a cookie after coming in from a 2 hour run?) and I haven’t been doing anything out of the ordinary with cross-training or strength training. My paces have been much slower. I have no way of explaining why I am so tired during so many of my runs. Even more frustrating is that it seems to come and go; when I think I have finally warmed up and found a good rhythm my legs will suddenly fill with wet sand.
As I’ve mentioned in a previous post or two, I have also been finding new routes through the surrounding neighborhoods because the bike paths that I normally run on have been impassable due to snow, ice and fallen trees.
A Tree Blocked Bike Path
Another downed tree, less than 1/2 mile away
The bamboo also got in to the blocking action
When my runs are good, I find that this spirit of discovery and exploration provides a nice spring in my step. However, when I’m struggling to run because my legs are fatigued I find new routes to be exhausting mentally. I am constantly calculating distances in my head and the questions seem endless – when should I turn around, when should I turn down a side street, how far will this road take before I have to alter my route, where will this road lead – the whole time being painfully aware of the absolute shortest route back home and a premature to my run. I find myself constantly having to convince my legs not to take that route and every turn, every side street, every unexpected hill restarts the dialogue.
And yet…
I haven’t bailed on a run yet. That’s something to be proud of and today’s run actually felt much easier. I felt more like myself out there running in the cold, wet morning. It is good to be back (and fingers crossed that it lasts).
Daily Dozen:
6 miles @ early morning
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Two Runs - Two Different Outcomes
I had high hopes for this morning’s run: I’m finally back from a self-imposed (injury-imposed) weeklong break from running, yesterday’s running wasn’t terrible and I do enjoy running on snow. The run didn’t go that well but maybe I was expecting too much: I’m just coming back from an injury and haven’t run for a week, yesterday’s run wasn’t very reassuring and running on snow is hard and slow.
Yesterday was my first day back to running. I headed out in the pre-dawn darkness, packed snow and ice crunching underfoot and a lingering tightness in my left quad. I wanted to do a slow 5 miles to test out my leg but maybe that was too much? Despite some dull pain in my leg I kept running and by the end of the run, I was feeling good.
Also, cruising along on the snow was fun: everything seemed so quiet and calm with a thin snow layer. The moon was out and its light reflecting off the snow made the morning brighter than usual. Rather than the normal sound of my footfall, I crunched loudly, packing down snow and breaking up ice that had formed overnight. I felt like I was juggling the snow with my feet as I avoided the icy spots and jumped from packed snow spot to packed snow spot. It really was a tremendous amount of fun.
However, today was a different story. Juggling the snow was physically and mentally exhausting. My leg was stiff and actually hurt today. I was slipping and sliding and just didn’t want to be out there (as much as I really wished that I wanted to be there). Now, my leg is sore today and I’m not sure what to do: see how it goes tomorrow or start getting used to the fact that I need some more time off.
One bad run isn’t the be all, end all of my running but it sure isn’t helping right now.
Daily Dozen:
4 miles – slow but not really easy!
Yesterday was my first day back to running. I headed out in the pre-dawn darkness, packed snow and ice crunching underfoot and a lingering tightness in my left quad. I wanted to do a slow 5 miles to test out my leg but maybe that was too much? Despite some dull pain in my leg I kept running and by the end of the run, I was feeling good.
Also, cruising along on the snow was fun: everything seemed so quiet and calm with a thin snow layer. The moon was out and its light reflecting off the snow made the morning brighter than usual. Rather than the normal sound of my footfall, I crunched loudly, packing down snow and breaking up ice that had formed overnight. I felt like I was juggling the snow with my feet as I avoided the icy spots and jumped from packed snow spot to packed snow spot. It really was a tremendous amount of fun.
However, today was a different story. Juggling the snow was physically and mentally exhausting. My leg was stiff and actually hurt today. I was slipping and sliding and just didn’t want to be out there (as much as I really wished that I wanted to be there). Now, my leg is sore today and I’m not sure what to do: see how it goes tomorrow or start getting used to the fact that I need some more time off.
One bad run isn’t the be all, end all of my running but it sure isn’t helping right now.
Daily Dozen:
4 miles – slow but not really easy!
Monday, October 26, 2009
Jonas Cattell Run, Ten Mile Race - Haddonfield, NJ
Dreams aside, the Jonas Cattell Run, a ten-mile race in honor of Jonas Cattell’s October 22, 1777 run to warn American troops of the Hessian troops advancing on Fort Mercer, is an unlucky race for me. Two years ago I had to drop out at the four mile mark because of an injury I had going in to the race, possibly a stress fracture in my right foot, and admittedly I shouldn’t have even started the race. This year, I went in the race injury-free but everything seemed to be pitted against me – lack of sleep, lack of food, a rushed start, heat, and uneven pacing. I hated nearly every step of this race!
Some background on why I run this unlucky race (and why I’ll continue to run it): 21 years ago, my father and two of his brothers made a bet – the three of them would run the Jonas Cattell Run and the one who came across the finish line last would buy the other two a steak dinner. Nineteen years after than run, at a cousin’s wedding, memories of this race and this bet were discussed, dissected, shouted about, laughed about, and likely shouted about again. It was decided that the following year, 2008, on the twentieth anniversary of my Dad and Uncle’s run the next generation would take up the cause and some how I got involved in a bet as whether I could beat my oldest cousin – a Navy Reservist with a smoking habit. I was not the one who instigated this bet and I even fought against it initially but I admit that I got caught up and did some trash talking as the year went on. Leading up to the 2008 race, there was quite a bit of speculation as to how this would turn out. Unfortunately, I had to drop out of the race and my cousin went on to finish declaring himself the fastest in the family. (This is not quite true as every one of the original three racers beat his time twenty years prior but facts such as this do not stand in the way of people in my family making such proclamations).
And so, I faced all of this family history on race day 2009 with a lot to live up to (one cousin told me that she was expecting me to medal…gah! I just want to finish the darn thing this year) seeking revenge on a course that did me in the previous year. I hate having that DNF (Did Not Finish) on my running record and over the past year, whenever I thought about the race while I was out on a run I would unconsciously start running faster and faster, getting to a near full out sprint by the time I realized what I was doing and got my pace back in check.
On top of this history, and maybe because of it, I did not sleep well the previous evening. On my way to the race, I realized I had forgotten to bring a water bottle and a sandwich. The race wasn’t until 1 in the afternoon and I left the house at 8:30 with only a bowl of cereal in my stomach! Then, I got stuck in traffic and barely made it to Red Bank Battlefield, the finish line of the race, in time to jump on the bus to the start (however, the bus ended up being 40 minutes late so it was a hurry up, wait, hurry up situation which is never a good way to start a race).
All of this was on my mind at the start line - the family and personal history with this race, the lack of sleep and food, and the pressure to live up to the hype. The starting horn went off and like it or not, this race was finally going to happen and I had nothing left to do but run.
Based on my last race, a 51 minute 10K, I was aiming to run this race in 85 minutes, maintaining an 8:30 pace per mile. On a good day I am confident I could do this but this wasn’t anywhere in the realm of a good day. The best way to review this race is to go mile by mile:
Mile 1 – 8:12
The starting gun goes off, I wished my cousin good luck (not the cousin who I was supposed to race last year, another cousin who also ran last year), started my watch and started running. I thought a lot about my 85 minute time goal and whether I was at the correct pace. I was actually worried my pace was too slow because the course was still crowded though it would quickly thin out. The race brings less then 100 people out each year and it doesn’t take long to spread out. I hit the first mile marker, checked my watch and was surprised at the split – 8:12. I guess I better slow it down just a smidge.
Mile 2 – 8:26
Good steady pace. My legs aren’t exactly gliding along and I feel like I am working much too hard this early in the race but I was willing to chalk it up to the lack of warm up before the start and hoped I would find my stride soon. If I have to work this hard the entire time, this race is going to suck. 8:26 – now that’s more like. Eight more miles exactly the same way
Mile 3 – 9:58
Still working hard; still haven’t found my stride and then people start passing me. What the !?&*! This isn’t supposed to be happening in Mile 3. About 10 people pass me during the mile but I keep telling myself to just run my own race, at my own pace. If these people are willing to go out too fast, don’t let them take me along for the ride. Steady pace, I tell myself. This mile had a gradual incline and I blamed this for letting myself get passed by so many people. Also, the temperatures were up in the low 60s and the course had little shade. I am used to much cooler temps since I run in the morning. I hit the lap button at the mile marker and was caught completely off guard when it read 9:something. I thought I was going steady and it turns out these people had every reason to pass me; I was slowing down!!
Mile 4 – 7:19
I hit the water stop just after Mile 3, grabbed water (note to race organizers: Styrofoam cups are the worst, please don’t use them) and gulped down a half a cup. I was hoping to save the packets of Sports Beans I had with me for the halfway point but I was so hungry and needed the fuel so I munched on them. Refueled, I started focusing on my pace. I tried to keep up with the people who passed me, keep them in sight. I would not let this course defeat me again. I hit the fourth mile marker and could not believe I ran a 7 minute mile. Oh crap! I have to slow down. The people who passed me be damned, I can’t keep this up.
Mile 5 – 8:09
Passing Mile 4 and the spot where I dropped out last time was a huge boost. I gained a little bit more confidence and let the people ahead of me go. If I caught them later, great. If not, good for them. Mile 5 brought another water stop and the halfway point. My watch read 8:09 – better than the 7 minute mile before but still too fast. I gotta let this pace go!
Mile 6 – 9:36
I am really feeling it by this point. I tell myself to stay calm and get to Mile 7. Once I was to Mile 7, I could assess my pace and get a good idea of how this would end. Mile 6 went by quickly. I was bummed about my pace but knew that it had to be slow in order to make up for the previous two if I was going to finish this thing in any sort of respectable manner. Surprisingly, on Mile 6, I also started to catch up with a few of the people who passed me. Slow and steady I repeated to myself over and over.
Mile 7 – 8:53
On passing the Mile 6 marker, I realized I had under 9 minutes to the one hour mark and I made it my goal to push a little bit and get to Mile 7 in under an hour. Seven miles an hour! That practically makes me Speedy Gonzalas, right? I ran by the Mile 7 marker and my watch read 1:00:xx – not quite “under an hour” but certainly an hour! I’ll take it. This provided a huge boost and I passed a few more people shortly after the marker.
Mile 8 – 9:30
I’ve made the final turn of the race. I just have to keep running straight and I would get to the finish line. At this point, I knew I wouldn’t make it in 85 minutes but I was confident I could do better than 10 minute pace for the remaining three miles so sub 90 was within reach. 1:27:xx is my ten mile PR and I would have to fight to beat it. At this point, I really wasn’t sure if I had that fight in me. At Mile Marker 8, I saw 9:30 and I was content.
Mile 9 – 7:59
However, this feeling was short-lived because I got hungry (not “hunger” hungry – I was passed that stage – but rather hungry for a fight) and I was determined to put it all on the line. My legs were feeling the miles especially because they were run at such a crazy, uneven pace, I never found my stride out there but I knew if I pushed, if I wasn’t afraid, I could give my PR a run for the money. I had 17 minutes to bring it in under 1:27:00 and two miles to go. That’s 8:30 per mile – just the pace I had been looking for the entire race but couldn’t ever find. I set my sights on the people ahead of me and pushed to get passed them. Seeing that 7:59 at the mile marker felt good. Nine minutes and one mile to go.
Mile 10 – the Finish line
I pushed but legs were so tired. Honestly, I just wanted to quit. If I could have willed that course to be shorter, to end at 9.2 miles, I would have. There was a woman ahead of me with a blue shirt on. I didn’t think I had a chance to pass her but I stayed focus on simply keeping up with her. Then, with about a quarter mile to go, with the finish line just barely in sight I started to gain on her. Maybe, just maybe I could catch her if I pushed. So, I pushed. I ran. I just ran with the little bit I had left and it honestly felt good. Actually, if felt great…it was the best I had felt on the course all day. Just before entering the cones leading to the finish line, I passed her. I kicked it in. The clock read 1:26:xx and I crossed the line. Damn! That felt good!
After the race
Much of my extended family was in attendance and running by them in the finish line with them cheering me on was fun. My uncle walked me over to the runner’s tent to grab water and food and then I went back to wait for my cousin to cross and to cheer on the rest of the runners. Almost immediately, the trash talking started with my uncle acting as the ring leader! I am told the cousin I was supposed to race last year had already been informed of my time (10 minutes faster than his time last year) and supposedly he is ready for a rematch. I wish we could just run it for fun…but I know that isn’t going to happen. It will end up being a duel. It always is with my family. We’ll see. That’s next year. Let’s stay focused on this year.
Last year, the cousin who ran it again this year placed third in her age group so we were eager for the awards ceremony this year to see how she did. She ran this year’s race one minute faster and came in second in her age group. Yay! Next up, my age group and my uncle was convinced I had place. I was not so optimistic. However, they did call my name as the 3rd place finisher for the 25-29 age group, female. Holy crap! I never thought I would win hardware (hardware = medal).
I have to say, everything was stacked against me having a good race on that day but I pulled it off. I’m still a little shocked but receiving that medal felt good.
Pros:
-Family tradition
-Small race size
-Neat to finish at the battlefield
Cons:
-Awful course – boring highways the whole time-Course isn’t closed to traffic, cars are whizzing by the whole time (there are wonderful volunteers – police, fire and EMTs – at the intersections to hold off traffic as the runners go through)
- Not chip timed – my watch says 1:26:10, the official time posted was 1:26:44 – where did those 30 seconds go?
Yes, I will run it again – only because it is a family tradition. I actually wouldn’t recommend this race to anyone. (And next year, I believe it will conflict with the Army Ten Miler…bummer).
This is a picture of the race shirt and my 3rd place medal (sorry for the blurry image, I snapped it with my iPhone). The image on the medal is the same as the image on the shirt.
Here's a picture of the back of the medal:
Some background on why I run this unlucky race (and why I’ll continue to run it): 21 years ago, my father and two of his brothers made a bet – the three of them would run the Jonas Cattell Run and the one who came across the finish line last would buy the other two a steak dinner. Nineteen years after than run, at a cousin’s wedding, memories of this race and this bet were discussed, dissected, shouted about, laughed about, and likely shouted about again. It was decided that the following year, 2008, on the twentieth anniversary of my Dad and Uncle’s run the next generation would take up the cause and some how I got involved in a bet as whether I could beat my oldest cousin – a Navy Reservist with a smoking habit. I was not the one who instigated this bet and I even fought against it initially but I admit that I got caught up and did some trash talking as the year went on. Leading up to the 2008 race, there was quite a bit of speculation as to how this would turn out. Unfortunately, I had to drop out of the race and my cousin went on to finish declaring himself the fastest in the family. (This is not quite true as every one of the original three racers beat his time twenty years prior but facts such as this do not stand in the way of people in my family making such proclamations).
And so, I faced all of this family history on race day 2009 with a lot to live up to (one cousin told me that she was expecting me to medal…gah! I just want to finish the darn thing this year) seeking revenge on a course that did me in the previous year. I hate having that DNF (Did Not Finish) on my running record and over the past year, whenever I thought about the race while I was out on a run I would unconsciously start running faster and faster, getting to a near full out sprint by the time I realized what I was doing and got my pace back in check.
On top of this history, and maybe because of it, I did not sleep well the previous evening. On my way to the race, I realized I had forgotten to bring a water bottle and a sandwich. The race wasn’t until 1 in the afternoon and I left the house at 8:30 with only a bowl of cereal in my stomach! Then, I got stuck in traffic and barely made it to Red Bank Battlefield, the finish line of the race, in time to jump on the bus to the start (however, the bus ended up being 40 minutes late so it was a hurry up, wait, hurry up situation which is never a good way to start a race).
All of this was on my mind at the start line - the family and personal history with this race, the lack of sleep and food, and the pressure to live up to the hype. The starting horn went off and like it or not, this race was finally going to happen and I had nothing left to do but run.
Based on my last race, a 51 minute 10K, I was aiming to run this race in 85 minutes, maintaining an 8:30 pace per mile. On a good day I am confident I could do this but this wasn’t anywhere in the realm of a good day. The best way to review this race is to go mile by mile:
Mile 1 – 8:12
The starting gun goes off, I wished my cousin good luck (not the cousin who I was supposed to race last year, another cousin who also ran last year), started my watch and started running. I thought a lot about my 85 minute time goal and whether I was at the correct pace. I was actually worried my pace was too slow because the course was still crowded though it would quickly thin out. The race brings less then 100 people out each year and it doesn’t take long to spread out. I hit the first mile marker, checked my watch and was surprised at the split – 8:12. I guess I better slow it down just a smidge.
Mile 2 – 8:26
Good steady pace. My legs aren’t exactly gliding along and I feel like I am working much too hard this early in the race but I was willing to chalk it up to the lack of warm up before the start and hoped I would find my stride soon. If I have to work this hard the entire time, this race is going to suck. 8:26 – now that’s more like. Eight more miles exactly the same way
Mile 3 – 9:58
Still working hard; still haven’t found my stride and then people start passing me. What the !?&*! This isn’t supposed to be happening in Mile 3. About 10 people pass me during the mile but I keep telling myself to just run my own race, at my own pace. If these people are willing to go out too fast, don’t let them take me along for the ride. Steady pace, I tell myself. This mile had a gradual incline and I blamed this for letting myself get passed by so many people. Also, the temperatures were up in the low 60s and the course had little shade. I am used to much cooler temps since I run in the morning. I hit the lap button at the mile marker and was caught completely off guard when it read 9:something. I thought I was going steady and it turns out these people had every reason to pass me; I was slowing down!!
Mile 4 – 7:19
I hit the water stop just after Mile 3, grabbed water (note to race organizers: Styrofoam cups are the worst, please don’t use them) and gulped down a half a cup. I was hoping to save the packets of Sports Beans I had with me for the halfway point but I was so hungry and needed the fuel so I munched on them. Refueled, I started focusing on my pace. I tried to keep up with the people who passed me, keep them in sight. I would not let this course defeat me again. I hit the fourth mile marker and could not believe I ran a 7 minute mile. Oh crap! I have to slow down. The people who passed me be damned, I can’t keep this up.
Mile 5 – 8:09
Passing Mile 4 and the spot where I dropped out last time was a huge boost. I gained a little bit more confidence and let the people ahead of me go. If I caught them later, great. If not, good for them. Mile 5 brought another water stop and the halfway point. My watch read 8:09 – better than the 7 minute mile before but still too fast. I gotta let this pace go!
Mile 6 – 9:36
I am really feeling it by this point. I tell myself to stay calm and get to Mile 7. Once I was to Mile 7, I could assess my pace and get a good idea of how this would end. Mile 6 went by quickly. I was bummed about my pace but knew that it had to be slow in order to make up for the previous two if I was going to finish this thing in any sort of respectable manner. Surprisingly, on Mile 6, I also started to catch up with a few of the people who passed me. Slow and steady I repeated to myself over and over.
Mile 7 – 8:53
On passing the Mile 6 marker, I realized I had under 9 minutes to the one hour mark and I made it my goal to push a little bit and get to Mile 7 in under an hour. Seven miles an hour! That practically makes me Speedy Gonzalas, right? I ran by the Mile 7 marker and my watch read 1:00:xx – not quite “under an hour” but certainly an hour! I’ll take it. This provided a huge boost and I passed a few more people shortly after the marker.
Mile 8 – 9:30
I’ve made the final turn of the race. I just have to keep running straight and I would get to the finish line. At this point, I knew I wouldn’t make it in 85 minutes but I was confident I could do better than 10 minute pace for the remaining three miles so sub 90 was within reach. 1:27:xx is my ten mile PR and I would have to fight to beat it. At this point, I really wasn’t sure if I had that fight in me. At Mile Marker 8, I saw 9:30 and I was content.
Mile 9 – 7:59
However, this feeling was short-lived because I got hungry (not “hunger” hungry – I was passed that stage – but rather hungry for a fight) and I was determined to put it all on the line. My legs were feeling the miles especially because they were run at such a crazy, uneven pace, I never found my stride out there but I knew if I pushed, if I wasn’t afraid, I could give my PR a run for the money. I had 17 minutes to bring it in under 1:27:00 and two miles to go. That’s 8:30 per mile – just the pace I had been looking for the entire race but couldn’t ever find. I set my sights on the people ahead of me and pushed to get passed them. Seeing that 7:59 at the mile marker felt good. Nine minutes and one mile to go.
Mile 10 – the Finish line
I pushed but legs were so tired. Honestly, I just wanted to quit. If I could have willed that course to be shorter, to end at 9.2 miles, I would have. There was a woman ahead of me with a blue shirt on. I didn’t think I had a chance to pass her but I stayed focus on simply keeping up with her. Then, with about a quarter mile to go, with the finish line just barely in sight I started to gain on her. Maybe, just maybe I could catch her if I pushed. So, I pushed. I ran. I just ran with the little bit I had left and it honestly felt good. Actually, if felt great…it was the best I had felt on the course all day. Just before entering the cones leading to the finish line, I passed her. I kicked it in. The clock read 1:26:xx and I crossed the line. Damn! That felt good!
After the race
Much of my extended family was in attendance and running by them in the finish line with them cheering me on was fun. My uncle walked me over to the runner’s tent to grab water and food and then I went back to wait for my cousin to cross and to cheer on the rest of the runners. Almost immediately, the trash talking started with my uncle acting as the ring leader! I am told the cousin I was supposed to race last year had already been informed of my time (10 minutes faster than his time last year) and supposedly he is ready for a rematch. I wish we could just run it for fun…but I know that isn’t going to happen. It will end up being a duel. It always is with my family. We’ll see. That’s next year. Let’s stay focused on this year.
Last year, the cousin who ran it again this year placed third in her age group so we were eager for the awards ceremony this year to see how she did. She ran this year’s race one minute faster and came in second in her age group. Yay! Next up, my age group and my uncle was convinced I had place. I was not so optimistic. However, they did call my name as the 3rd place finisher for the 25-29 age group, female. Holy crap! I never thought I would win hardware (hardware = medal).
I have to say, everything was stacked against me having a good race on that day but I pulled it off. I’m still a little shocked but receiving that medal felt good.
Pros:
-Family tradition
-Small race size
-Neat to finish at the battlefield
Cons:
-Awful course – boring highways the whole time-Course isn’t closed to traffic, cars are whizzing by the whole time (there are wonderful volunteers – police, fire and EMTs – at the intersections to hold off traffic as the runners go through)
- Not chip timed – my watch says 1:26:10, the official time posted was 1:26:44 – where did those 30 seconds go?
Yes, I will run it again – only because it is a family tradition. I actually wouldn’t recommend this race to anyone. (And next year, I believe it will conflict with the Army Ten Miler…bummer).
This is a picture of the race shirt and my 3rd place medal (sorry for the blurry image, I snapped it with my iPhone). The image on the medal is the same as the image on the shirt.Here's a picture of the back of the medal:
It reads:
Gloucester County, Parks and Recreation, 3rd place, 25-29 years
Monday, August 3, 2009
Any Number of Things Could Have Gone Wrong
When something goes wrong a run, any good runner will start to analyze their recent routine – sleep, previous workout, nutrition, and pacing – to see what the cause might be. While I do believe that the right reaction to a bad run or race, is to move on and not dwell; I also think it is good to try to learn from the mistakes made leading up to, or during, the run.
On Sunday morning, I set out for a two-hour run. I didn’t have a set mileage goal in mind but rather I knew I wanted to get some “time on my feet.” I headed toward the Mount Vernon bike trail to run for an hour along the Potomac River and then turn around and make my way back home by the same route.
I took my time as I made my way along the bike trails, enjoying the smell of fresh rain that had only recently stopped and playfully avoiding the puddles. I was feel very good about the run and as always, I enjoy the scenery along the route – DC and all the monuments across the river.
I hit the hour mark and turned around to head home. About halfway home, about 1 hour 30 minutes in to the run, the wheels started coming off; my legs were feeling unusually tired and I was breathing harder than usual. Climbing one of the hills, not far from the top, and with only a little over 2 miles to go I had to do something I’ve never done before – stop and walk.
I’ve walked during my runs before but it is usually for a good reason – drink water, eat food, something started to hurt or it was planned – but I’ve never just not been able to make it. I can always muster enough strength to make it to the top, get to the next light pole, etc. This time was different. I just couldn’t go anymore, I just had to stop and rest.
After walking for about 5 minutes, I took off at a slower pace and I finished out the run; ecstatic when my Garmin beeped that final hour was finally over. During this 2 mile trudge I started to analyze just what could have gone wrong.
Sleep
I was up later than normal on Friday, not getting to bed until after midnight so I made the decision to move my weekend long run to Sunday morning instead of my normal day of Saturday. I took a short nap on Saturday and went to bed at a decent hour that night so I didn’t think it was lack of sleep that had caused the bad run; however, maybe the late night on Friday had affected me more than I thought. Maybe I didn’t sleep that well on Saturday. Sleep could have been a contributing factor but I really didn’t think it was the culprit.
Previous Workouts
Thursday I had done a hard strength training workout and even through Saturday I was feeling some residual soreness in my legs. However, due to a commitment at work, I decided to skip my Friday run and take a rest day. With two days of near complete rest, I know that Thursday workout couldn’t have been the reason I had to stop during Sunday’s long run.
Nutrition
Ah, I think we are on to something here. I haven’t been making the best choices when it comes to food lately; I knew that, so lack of quality nutrition can definitely sink a run. In addition to that, I didn’t have a big dinner Saturday and I only had a banana before heading out for the run on Sunday. I had simply run out of fuel and as I was running up that hill that is exactly how I felt, like a car running out of gas, I just couldn’t go any further.
After my run had concluded, as I walked home in the rain, I did this quick analysis and felt confident that I had determined the problem. I could learn from these mistakes and move on.
However, when I got home and plugged in my Garmin to download my paces from the run, I discovered a much more glaring error.
Pacing
I wasn’t paying attention to my pace during the run. I was running by feel and I was feeling good. I knew I had to take it easy and slow to last the entire two hours and I thought I was. Before I crashed on mile 9, my pace for the most of the previous miles was closer to the 10:00 minute/mile range, way too fast for a long run. I should have been in the 10:30 range and as a consequence, I had to stop and walk and then plodded through the end of the run at 11:00 minute/mile pace.
Running at a pace much faster than I should have been coupled with the lack of fuel and probably dealing with a slight lack of sleep, I just couldn’t hold the pace on the long run and that is why I had to stop and walk.
Lesson learned.
Daily Dozen
Strength Training @ lunch hour
3 miles easy after work
On Sunday morning, I set out for a two-hour run. I didn’t have a set mileage goal in mind but rather I knew I wanted to get some “time on my feet.” I headed toward the Mount Vernon bike trail to run for an hour along the Potomac River and then turn around and make my way back home by the same route.
I took my time as I made my way along the bike trails, enjoying the smell of fresh rain that had only recently stopped and playfully avoiding the puddles. I was feel very good about the run and as always, I enjoy the scenery along the route – DC and all the monuments across the river.
I hit the hour mark and turned around to head home. About halfway home, about 1 hour 30 minutes in to the run, the wheels started coming off; my legs were feeling unusually tired and I was breathing harder than usual. Climbing one of the hills, not far from the top, and with only a little over 2 miles to go I had to do something I’ve never done before – stop and walk.
I’ve walked during my runs before but it is usually for a good reason – drink water, eat food, something started to hurt or it was planned – but I’ve never just not been able to make it. I can always muster enough strength to make it to the top, get to the next light pole, etc. This time was different. I just couldn’t go anymore, I just had to stop and rest.
After walking for about 5 minutes, I took off at a slower pace and I finished out the run; ecstatic when my Garmin beeped that final hour was finally over. During this 2 mile trudge I started to analyze just what could have gone wrong.
Sleep
I was up later than normal on Friday, not getting to bed until after midnight so I made the decision to move my weekend long run to Sunday morning instead of my normal day of Saturday. I took a short nap on Saturday and went to bed at a decent hour that night so I didn’t think it was lack of sleep that had caused the bad run; however, maybe the late night on Friday had affected me more than I thought. Maybe I didn’t sleep that well on Saturday. Sleep could have been a contributing factor but I really didn’t think it was the culprit.
Previous Workouts
Thursday I had done a hard strength training workout and even through Saturday I was feeling some residual soreness in my legs. However, due to a commitment at work, I decided to skip my Friday run and take a rest day. With two days of near complete rest, I know that Thursday workout couldn’t have been the reason I had to stop during Sunday’s long run.
Nutrition
Ah, I think we are on to something here. I haven’t been making the best choices when it comes to food lately; I knew that, so lack of quality nutrition can definitely sink a run. In addition to that, I didn’t have a big dinner Saturday and I only had a banana before heading out for the run on Sunday. I had simply run out of fuel and as I was running up that hill that is exactly how I felt, like a car running out of gas, I just couldn’t go any further.
After my run had concluded, as I walked home in the rain, I did this quick analysis and felt confident that I had determined the problem. I could learn from these mistakes and move on.
However, when I got home and plugged in my Garmin to download my paces from the run, I discovered a much more glaring error.
Pacing
I wasn’t paying attention to my pace during the run. I was running by feel and I was feeling good. I knew I had to take it easy and slow to last the entire two hours and I thought I was. Before I crashed on mile 9, my pace for the most of the previous miles was closer to the 10:00 minute/mile range, way too fast for a long run. I should have been in the 10:30 range and as a consequence, I had to stop and walk and then plodded through the end of the run at 11:00 minute/mile pace.
Running at a pace much faster than I should have been coupled with the lack of fuel and probably dealing with a slight lack of sleep, I just couldn’t hold the pace on the long run and that is why I had to stop and walk.
Lesson learned.
Daily Dozen
Strength Training @ lunch hour
3 miles easy after work
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Running is a Roller Coaster
Often during my morning runs, I compose blog posts as I run along the bike paths and roads. More often than not only small snippets of these mental compositions actual making in what I eventually type up but it keeps my mind occupied on something while still allowing me to focus on running.
Yesterday’s mental post was about how strong I felt, about how I had finished my final high mileage week and I was feeling very strong – mentally and physically. Yesterday morning, I was ready to declare to the world, “I am runner, hear me ROAR.”
This morning I was hoping to carry that confidence over to strong 8-miler that, if I was feeling good, would include a few middle miles at marathon pace. That was not the case. My legs were tired and I had to constantly refocus on ensuring I was picking up my feet enough and avoid shuffling along, scuffing my shoes. I was more than a little demoralized.
Training for a marathon can be an emotional roller coaster for me. The highs are tremendous. I feel so confident and strong during and after a good run that it makes me forget all previous days of heavy legs or aches and pains. I forget that there have been days that I simply had to give up on runs. I forget that barely six months ago I was building back up from scratch, looking forward to running for 30 minutes straight. Yesterday’s run made me remember all of other runs as if they were as smooth and refreshing as this one.
But there will always be lows. This morning was a low. After less than a half mile, I didn’t feel like continuing and I wasn’t able to shake the feeling. My legs were tired and heavy. They felt like they were on the verge of rebelling. Even the slight inclines were enough to start me huffing and puffing. I decided to vary my route and run by some houses my husband and I have had our eye on in the hopes that the new streets and neighborhoods would be enough to stimulate the run.
While I finished the 8 miles, I couldn’t help but feel disappointment in how fleeting yesterday’s strength and confidence happened to be. Where did they go? Will I get them back? Is tomorrow morning’s run gonna suck as well?
Before I sink to for in to my feelings of “woe is me and my running,” I’ve got to remind myself, tomorrow is a new day and a new opportunity for strength. I lost somewhere out on the roads this morning but maybe I’ll find it again on tomorrow’s run. I’ll keep an eye out.
Today’s Daily Dozen:
8 mile morning run
Yesterday’s mental post was about how strong I felt, about how I had finished my final high mileage week and I was feeling very strong – mentally and physically. Yesterday morning, I was ready to declare to the world, “I am runner, hear me ROAR.”
This morning I was hoping to carry that confidence over to strong 8-miler that, if I was feeling good, would include a few middle miles at marathon pace. That was not the case. My legs were tired and I had to constantly refocus on ensuring I was picking up my feet enough and avoid shuffling along, scuffing my shoes. I was more than a little demoralized.
Training for a marathon can be an emotional roller coaster for me. The highs are tremendous. I feel so confident and strong during and after a good run that it makes me forget all previous days of heavy legs or aches and pains. I forget that there have been days that I simply had to give up on runs. I forget that barely six months ago I was building back up from scratch, looking forward to running for 30 minutes straight. Yesterday’s run made me remember all of other runs as if they were as smooth and refreshing as this one.
But there will always be lows. This morning was a low. After less than a half mile, I didn’t feel like continuing and I wasn’t able to shake the feeling. My legs were tired and heavy. They felt like they were on the verge of rebelling. Even the slight inclines were enough to start me huffing and puffing. I decided to vary my route and run by some houses my husband and I have had our eye on in the hopes that the new streets and neighborhoods would be enough to stimulate the run.
While I finished the 8 miles, I couldn’t help but feel disappointment in how fleeting yesterday’s strength and confidence happened to be. Where did they go? Will I get them back? Is tomorrow morning’s run gonna suck as well?
Before I sink to for in to my feelings of “woe is me and my running,” I’ve got to remind myself, tomorrow is a new day and a new opportunity for strength. I lost somewhere out on the roads this morning but maybe I’ll find it again on tomorrow’s run. I’ll keep an eye out.
Today’s Daily Dozen:
8 mile morning run
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Live to Run Another Day
Some runs are worth fighting for.
Some runs are hard because my legs are tired and every step is effort of will but I know that pushing through is worth it because I need to conquer that little voice that tells me I should to just give up because it is too hard.
Some runs are just not meant to be. Today I had one of these runs.
My left quadriceps has been giving me a little trouble for the past week. It feels like a muscle strain and after a few miles of running it is sufficiently warmed up and I don't have an pain. This morning, however, it just didn't feel right and was taking too long to warm up.
I also haven't been getting the number of hours of sleep that I should for the past two or three nights. Its not that I have been sleeping poorly just that I have been staying for one reason or another and getting an hour less sleep than normal. As a result, my heart rate jumped up this morning during the first hill and stayed up. An elevated heart rate is an indication that my body hasn't been able to fully recovery and I need to listen up.
On top of these things, every step seemed to be a tremendous effort. It felt like I was running through quicksand toward the end.
This wasn't the run to show my courage and push through to the finish. I listened to my body - quad, heart and legs - and it was telling me to take a break. I need to live to run another day, not crash and burn on a training run.
And so I stopped. Without regret or guilt, I let myself cut short a run that I could have completed. It just wasn't worth tempting injury. It was a smart move and the right call, I'm proud of myself for listening to my body.
I am sacrificing the remaining 5.5 miles to the running gods in the knowledge that they have blessed me with some effortless runs, helped push me through some tough runs and will provide a great day for the upcoming marathon.
Today's Daily Dozen:
3.5 mile morning run
Some runs are hard because my legs are tired and every step is effort of will but I know that pushing through is worth it because I need to conquer that little voice that tells me I should to just give up because it is too hard.
Some runs are just not meant to be. Today I had one of these runs.
My left quadriceps has been giving me a little trouble for the past week. It feels like a muscle strain and after a few miles of running it is sufficiently warmed up and I don't have an pain. This morning, however, it just didn't feel right and was taking too long to warm up.
I also haven't been getting the number of hours of sleep that I should for the past two or three nights. Its not that I have been sleeping poorly just that I have been staying for one reason or another and getting an hour less sleep than normal. As a result, my heart rate jumped up this morning during the first hill and stayed up. An elevated heart rate is an indication that my body hasn't been able to fully recovery and I need to listen up.
On top of these things, every step seemed to be a tremendous effort. It felt like I was running through quicksand toward the end.
This wasn't the run to show my courage and push through to the finish. I listened to my body - quad, heart and legs - and it was telling me to take a break. I need to live to run another day, not crash and burn on a training run.
And so I stopped. Without regret or guilt, I let myself cut short a run that I could have completed. It just wasn't worth tempting injury. It was a smart move and the right call, I'm proud of myself for listening to my body.
I am sacrificing the remaining 5.5 miles to the running gods in the knowledge that they have blessed me with some effortless runs, helped push me through some tough runs and will provide a great day for the upcoming marathon.
Today's Daily Dozen:
3.5 mile morning run
Monday, January 26, 2009
The Bad Run
What a relief, I had a bad run.
Since I started running two months ago, after recovery from a foot injury, I've been waiting for a bad run, that one bad run where everything goes wrong and you've got to convince yourself not walk – not for an obvious reason like pain but rather because something mentally is telling you, you can't run.
I woke up early on Saturday morning, ready to face my step-back long run of 5 miles, thinking, "Five miles, not a problem, I can pop that off in under an hour." Since there was still an hour until sunrise, I decided to wait out that hour and leave when it was light outside.
I putzed around and slowly gathered my stuff together, finally got dressed about an hour after waking up and took off for the five-miler. However, within 10 steps of starting to run, I realized something was wrong. I felt sluggish and just as quickly realized the problem; I had forgotten to eat my banana or even drink a glass of water this morning. I was running on yesterday's energy tank!
I toyed with the idea of turning around, going back home, getting a banana and proper hydration but I knew that as soon as I got home it would have been hard to convince myself to come back out. If this was to be the bad run, I might as well suck it up and get it over with so I could stop wondering when it would hit.
The two hills in the first mile of my normal five mile route were a struggle, much more than usual and they sent my heart rate way up. As I gasped for air and felt my heart try to jump out through my ears, I started getting scared. What if I can't make it? I know this is the bad run but what if it becomes the run to end all runs. Forget having to walk for part of it, what if I can't…just can't…finish the run.
As I tried to recover from the hills, I told myself, all I need to do is make it to that straight away by that pretty house that marks 2 miles. I was running on fear as opposed to actual, real energy so I didn't dare look at my watch to see my distance or my pace; I just focused on the next landmark.
As I hit that stretch of the trail that meant I was 2 miles in to the run, I started telling myself, "all I have to do is make it to the tennis courts, that's the 5k mark, just get to the tennis courts." I turned it in to a chant, repeating it over and over in my head, "ten-nis-courts-ten-nis-
As I ran under the overpass and saw the tennis court emerge along the trail, I heard my watch beep off the three mile mark but I put it out of my mind. At this point, numbers didn't matter, distance and pace were irrelevant. All that mattered was that I was still 2 miles from home and the only way I was going to make it home was by the power of my own two feet. If I walked, it meant that the bad run would just last longer so I had to run if I wanted it to end.
The bad run was the monster chasing me and if I just ran fast enough and stayed ahead of it, I might make it to safety.
After the tennis courts, I focused on mile 4. This mile was tough because it is along a straight section of the bike path, with few turns or landmarks to focus on but I knew that the intersection at the end of it would get me to that soccer field, in that park, where I ran that race last summer…and the turn on to Fairfax Drive. Once I hit Fairfax drive, I knew I could make it home no matter what so I just had to grit my teeth, focus on the intersection and put mile 4 and the bad run that much closer to being behind me.
I focused on the things I knew. There are those rocks we had an impromptu PB&J picnic at that one time. There is that house we looked at last summer; I don't remember it being that shade of green. Is that the intersection up ahead in the distance? Oh, I smell McDonald's French fries, yup, that's the intersection, just dig a little deeper and get there!!
Before I knew it, I was turning off the bike path and on to Fairfax drive. I had just over ¾ of a mile to go and I was going to make it. I ran to the metro station, turned right and then left down the small road across from the mall. Next I just had to get to that yoga studio and then after that the construction site. Once I get to the construction site, the park next to our apartment building is just a block away. That park, by that church, where they sometimes hand out soup to the homeless, if I got there, it would be a complete 5 miles and I would have a 2 block walk to home.
All these things are running through my head as I slug out that last mile, not daring to look at my watch and hoping that I hit all the traffic lights right because if I have to stop for a signal, I'm afraid I won't start up again.
And then, I am at the park and I hit the stop button my watch. The watch reads 5.02 miles in 50:29! Impossible! I can't believe it! That is way too fast for a long run, especially one that felt so belaboring. When I check out my paces, my last mile was actually in the 9:20s. My bad run, where every step was coerced, ends up being a speed workout?
The long run should have been a long slow run but fear can be a powerful motivator when it is chasing you down a bike path at 7:30 in the morning. Bad run – DONE!
Today's Daily Dozen:
1 hour interval walk on the treadmill, 60 pushups interspersed (15 at a time)
Core workout @ lunch hour
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