Category: Running
Race Week Update: I’m Not Running VCM
| May 21, 2013 | Posted by Lauren under Running |
It’s race week! Which means I should currently be in the throes of taper madness — obsessing over the weather, trying not to freak out about every new ache and pain, planning my race outfit/playlist, hydrating, and fighting all that taper-anxiety to make sure I get enough rest.
But I’m not doing any of those things. Because I’m not running VCM.
Now before you start to think that I just suffered some sort of traumatic injury or illness, let me assure you – I am fine. While the decision may seem sudden based on the blog, it’s actually something I’ve been mulling over for a long time. My silence on the issue isn’t because I’ve been trying to hide it from you. I’ve simply been in a bit of denial about the race, and have avoided thinking about it as much as possible over the past several weeks.
At this point, I think it’s probably best that I stop signing up for spring marathons. Because I kind of feel like after 2 springs in a row, this DNS thing might start to seem like a habit…obviously the last thing I want. It’s been a weird year of running for me. Like last year, my training for VCM all ended after a strong 20 mile run. Otherwise known as the last time I really mentioned training on the blog. And in case you were keeping track — that was over a month ago.
Totally irrelevant photo…but I needed something pretty to break up the depressing text.
So if I’m not seriously injured or ill, why am I not running? The simple answer is — training did not go as I had hoped/planned. Those of you who have been reading my blog may not even be all that surprised by this admission. It was pretty clear that training had been a bit of a roller coast for me this winter/spring. At times it felt okay, but for a good long while running was just hard. I didn’t feel like myself and I just couldn’t get in the groove, mentally or physically.
But then March came along and everything started falling into place. I had some great runs that finally made me excited to dive into the final weeks of training. …until I started experiencing some lower back/sciatic pain that I’m sure was exacerbated by the hills and my bad habit of not stretching/rolling enough. I took a little time off to keep things from getting worse, but that was the beginning of the end. Things just weren’t the same after that. I wasn’t able to hit the paces or the mileage I needed. My back pain went away, but I just couldn’t salvage the training.
There’s a lot going on in my life right now. Some of it (like the move) makes it onto the blog. Some doesn’t. One exciting update that I haven’t been able to share until now is that I recently started a new job — an exciting but also stressful change. I don’t talk about this much because, honestly, it was the source of a lot of embarrassment for me. But I haven’t been in an office for almost an entire year. 11 long months. Although a lot of that has been completely outside of my control, it’s not something I’m all that proud of.
When we first moved to Vermont, I kept busy with a pretty large consulting project. It made the transition easier, and I can’t say I missed going to work (at all!). But over the past few months, I realized that the freelance life isn’t for me. I finally focused 100% of my efforts into finding something more permanent, a search that as many of you know, can be a roller coaster of highs and depressing lows. After many many rejections, I’m so excited to finally be headed back to work — and to be involved in something that I’m incredibly passionate about. It’s been an adjustment, but I can’t even tell you how nice it is to get out of my own head and be a part of something that’s bigger than myself again. Sorry, but I don’t know how full time bloggers do it. Staying at home and thinking of nothing but myself and my blog day after day would drive me insane (which would explain the fact that even though I had more free time, I actually posted less).
There are seasons in running (and in life) where everything comes together. Your training clicks, your paces get faster, and you feel strong and unstoppable. I’m clearly not in one of those seasons right now. But I’m at peace with it. I plan to run until until my last day on this earth…or at least as long as I can manage. And if I want to do that, I need to accept the down times right along with the “I’m on top of the {running} world times.”
And finally, to tell you the complete honest truth, I’m really not all that interested in completing a marathon just to say I finished. I’ve been there, done that. While it can be a great motivator for many, it’s just not for me anymore. The joy, the challenge, of a marathon is in the work. I want to hurt. I want to push. I want to be brought to that dark place in the later miles and come out on the other side, smiling and victorious. The number of marathons I’ve completed has way less meaning to me than the time on the clock at the end. I know not everyone agrees with this way of thinking. But the reality is that I don’t really think marathons are all that fun. It’s this competition against the clock and myself that keeps me motivated through 26.2 miles of pain.
I wouldn’t get that with VCM. While I’m pretty sure I could technically finish the marathon (never underestimate the power of mental strength and determination), after running 3 marathons with almost the same exact time on the clock, I want more than that. I want my next marathon to be a testament to all my hard work. And I want more than a 3:18 (or slower).
So I’m not running. Instead, I’ll be playing the role of official chauffeur, cheerleader, and pacer for another gal gunning for a PR. I’m sure I’ll feel pangs of regret and sadness this weekend. Since I never technically deferred (you had to do so by April 22nd), there’s still a number waiting for me in Burlington. And I may be just a little tempted to toe that starting line, despite everything I just rambled on and on about.
But mostly, I feel at peace with the decision. Letting go of marathon training has allowed me to run for fun again, and to focus on all the other good and exciting changes that are happening right now. This past weekend, most of my family made the trip up to Vermont for a mini-vacation. It was the first time we have all been together for more than a day since my wedding last year, and it was absolutely wonderful. I got to relax with them, go on some great hikes with my favorite niece in all the world, and not stress about getting in my final marathon workouts.
This Saturday is the big Girls on the Run 5K that our girls have been training for all spring. Instead of stressing about spending too much time on my feet the day before I race, I can now go run and enjoy the festivities without worry. I can’t wait to feel their excitement and share in their joy of completing the run.
Life is funny. And timing doesn’t always work out quite the way we had planned. All we can do is keep moving forward. New, long-term goals are in the works. I will get that marathon PR someday. It just won’t be this weekend.
Vermont Running Adventures
| May 7, 2013 | Posted by Lauren under Running |
Oh hello there! I guess it’s been awhile, but I can’t imagine there’s anyone out there besides me who is keeping track. Even the spammers are still under the impression that this remains a regularly updated blog (I swear I’m getting way more spam comments daily than I used to get in a month. What gives??).
Anyway, we survived yet another move and are slowly getting settled into the new place. It’s crazy how a house can start to feel like home so quickly.
I think even the pup is excited about the change.
I’ve been trying to weasel my way out of many of the unpacking duties by sneaking out for runs around town. There’s nothing quite like exploring on foot. It’s by far favorite way to get to know a new area. And lately I’ve been especially giddy because there’s just so much more to see.
There were only 3 real roads that ran through the center of our old town. Three. Have I mentioned before that we lived in a teeny tiny village? This basically meant that on any given day, I could head out in one of 4 directions to get in a decent run. It goes without saying that those roads and I got to know each other pretty well over the past year. I knew all their curves, their climbs and falls, their shady and sunny spots, beautiful views, landmarks and conditions. This obviously didn’t make for many exciting runs, but there was something comforting about it. I loved how easy it was to zone out and enjoy a mindless run — just letting the road guide me without much thought. I ran those roads so often that running was always on my mind. I would drive from place to place and imagine myself running along that same stretch — picturing myself feeling strong and fast and flashing back to recent runs.
It was sad to leave those familiar streets behind, but I can’t say that I wasn’t looking forward to some new running adventures. Because, you know…after the umpteeth-hundred run in a particular direction, things are bound to get just a little monotonous.
So in my past week of run-exploring, here’s what I’ve learned.
Every run is a hill run. Yeah, I know I said that my old town was hilly and you’re probably sick of me talking about it, but that was all back when I was a naive flatlander experiencing Vermont running for the first time. Don’t get me wrong – I had some tough runs around my old house. But I kind of knew how to finagle the routes so that I could avoid the worst climbs on all but long runs if I wanted to.
Just a sample from a recent run. That dark purple area = 11% grade. Fun stuff.
But here? I don’t think there’s more than a mile of flat land anywhere in the near vicinity. And the hills aren’t your nice friendly little rollers that make a running route fun. These babies all seem to be of the “sucking wind, doubled over, practically walking up” variety. I don’t really know what I expected. When you essentially live at the base of a ski mountain, hills sort of come with the territory.
At least they come with some pretty amazing views.
Looking forward to the day the Green Mountains actually turn green again
Speed work has morphed into hill work…at least for now. With the aforementioned climbs I seem to face wherever I turn, my average pace isn’t exactly something to brag about. So instead of running the same tiny stretch of road over and over, I’ve just decided to embrace the climbs. I may be slow and my tempo runs may not exactly be at a tempo pace (or anything resembling “fast”), but my soaring heart rate and burning lungs would suggest otherwise.
More than ever, I’m really hoping the old adage “hills are speed work in disguise” holds true.
Pictures don’t really do it justice…
Every road is a dead end. Or most of them anyway. So much for walkabity. I know this is what happens when you move out of the city — the privacy and quietness of dead end streets is still valued more highly than grid networks…at least outside of the village centers. Plus, you know, things aren’t exactly developed out here. When we first moved, I was so excited by the sheer number of roads I now had to explore. But after a little over a week’s worth of runs, I have come to the conclusion that most of the roads follow the same format: climb up super steep hill, turn into dirt, end abruptly. My running routes look a little funny with all the mini out-and-backs, but hey – it’s all part of the adventure, right?
Finally (and most importantly):
If it looks sketchy and it feels sketchy, chances are it IS sketchy. And you should turn around immediately.
On one of my very first runs here, I randomly turned off into what I thought looked like it could be a nice neighborhood. But the paved road quickly got narrower and the houses got more spread out. By the time the road turned to dirt, there weren’t many houses in sight. A quiet little voice in the back of my head told me to turn around. But the road went around a sharp bend and started climbing up a hill, and I just had to see what was at the top. I came around the final bend and was greeted by a strange tall, unfinished little square tower (seriously – so weird looking). At first I thought it was just a construction site. But a few more steps revealed a large piece of land with all sorts of random crap strewn about. And a metal trailer with something in black painted on the side. I squinted, ran a few steps closer and was just able to make out “STAY A” when I noticed the other identical trailer with an equally friendly message:
“STOP STEAL GET SHOT”
Welcome to rural Vermont.
All I could picture…
While I had no intention of doing any of those things, I figured it was probably better not to take any chances. I immediately turned around and fled from the scene as fast as fast as I possibly could. Needless to say, that’s one route I won’t be taking ever again.
Anyone else have any “sketchy run” stories? I can’t be the only one who gets herself into trouble by her need to explore new routes.
Boston
| April 16, 2013 | Posted by Lauren under Running |
I didn’t run my half marathon this weekend. We had some stuff come up with our family that resulted in a last minute trip out of town, leaving me with yet another DNS to my name. Selfishly I was disappointed. No runner wants to DNS a race they’ve been training for, and I seem to be accumulating quite a few of those these days.
The one silver lining to all of this was Boston. Our last minute trip meant that we’d be heading back through MA on Monday morning, just in time to cheer for the marathon. As always, I pushed to go into the city. Every year, no matter where we start out, we make our way down to the finish area after everyone we know has run by. I love being a part of the crowd on Boylston Street. Seeing finishers push to the end on nothing but pure will and heart is one of the most inspiring moments you can hope to witness as a runner…and as a human being.
But Evan somehow convinced me to stay out of the city. We had a long drive back to Vermont after the race and I knew that we’d make it a lot easier on ourselves if we stuck to the suburbs. So instead of starting off at Mile 20 like I’ve done for the past few years now, we camped out in Natick Center (mile 10), excited to cheer for runners in the first half of the race.
It’s crazy to look at the pictures now. To see the images of Evan and me and all the other spectators soaking up the Boston Magic, cheering for strangers and loved ones alike. I had planned to write about how awesome it was to be so close to greatness as the elites sped by, how great it was to cheer for a few friends who were running and then track them to fast finishes, and how disappointed I was that I didn’t get to see everyone — somehow skipping over the faces of friends in an endless sea of runners.
Women leaders, mile 10
The chase pack led by Rita Jeptoo, the eventual winner of the women’s race (with Felix just behind)
The winner – Lelisa Desisa in the front in blue. Amazingly, Jason Hartmann (first US runner and 4th overall) is well off the pack at this point. You can see him in the distance in a red singlet
All that seems silly now. In the face of such senseless tragedy, it’s hard to find the words. I don’t know how to adequately express my reaction to the horror…the complete violation…that occurred yesterday afternoon. How could someone attack a marathon? How could anyone in this world take an event that celebrates the triumph of the human spirit and shatter all that to pieces?
I was actually back home by the time we found out what had happened. I wasn’t feeling well so we decided to head out a little earlier than planned. I drove all the way home reveling in the excitement of the day, until I got a frantic phone call from my youngest sister (who is on a military base all the way out in Missouri) asking if we were okay. When she first told me about the bombing, I didn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe that something so awful would happen right in Boston, my favorite city on my favorite day of the year. It was too horrifying to process.
We spent the rest of the afternoon glued to the news and checking in with friends who were in Boston or running the race. So many people called/texted/tweeted me to check in to see if I was okay. I was overwhelmed — thankful that so many were thinking of us, but devastated that there would be many families whose frantic calls to loved ones would go unanswered, or would be returned with tragic news. It’s almost too much to bear. Even now I feel sick. Every report that comes out gives a higher number of individuals killed or injured. Tragic, life altering, war zone-like injuries. I can’t fully wrap my head around the devastation. And like so many, I can’t make any sense of it.
It seems like we are hit with tragedy after tragedy lately. Each one devastating in its own right. Each one claiming the lives of innocent people and altering our nation forever. Sometimes it seems like there’s no safe place anymore. No love and hope in the world to count on.
It’s almost impossible in the face of so much loss, but I keep trying to focus on the positives. Of the way so many runners and first responders rushed into the chaos instead of away. Of how many locals opened up their homes and hotel rooms to stranded runners — complete strangers in need of a place to stay. How people all over the world took to social media to share stories of hope, or pledge to unite with Boston by wearing Boston Marathon race shirts or colors on Tuesday. Small acts. But when a situation leaves you feeling helpless and devastated, those small acts are sometimes all you can do.
This morning I looked through some of the pictures we took at the race yesterday. Pictures that captured complete strangers undertaking a huge physical and mental feat and all those people that came to support them. At first these images just made the tragedy all the more real. I look at the faces and wonder what happened to each of the individuals I saw running by; to those families that were cheering next to me. I wonder if they are okay, if they made it out unscathed. And I want to cry when I look at the joy on some of the faces — because yesterday should have been joyous. It should have been a celebration of months (or years) of hard work and training, of realizing a dream. One where the only blood, sweat and tears should have come from a runner using every ounce of strength they have to finish 26.2 grueling miles, not caused by a cowardly bomber.
But in a way, these pictures taken a few hours before tragedy struck also capture the amazing community that running creates. They show the triumph of the human spirit. They remind me that no matter what happens, we will continue to bond together. And we will continue to run. For ourselves, for our community, for those whose lives were lost or altered on April 15th and all those tragic days before that. Because when faced with such unspeakable tragedy, it’s the only thing we know to do. The only response that makes any sense.
The mother and child shown crossing the finish line during the blast (that were mistakenly identified as the Hoyts by many). Not only is this women’s strength incredible, but I love the runner next to her cheering her on.
A spectator on his knees giving high fives while a sea of runners pushes on around him
I don’t really have a point to this post. Only that after debating whether or not to write anything at all, I realized that I had to say something. Even if what I’ve written doesn’t begin to do justice to the hurt and devastation.
So I’ll leave you with these — articles written by those who are much more eloquent than I, but (like the rest of us) are doing their best to process the horror of yesterday afternoon, and to find a way to keep pushing forward.
Ask Lauren Fleshman – Bombing in Boston
Lauren’s account of the events from the Fairmont Copley Hotel, where the elite athletes were staying after the race.
The New Yorker – The Meaning of the Boston Marathon
“…Or perhaps it was someone who saw a reflection of the human spirit and decided just to try to shatter it.”
Runner’s World – Boston Bombings: A Loss of Innocence
Even without that special purpose, marathon running is a sport of goodwill. It’s the only sport in the world where if a competitor falls, the others around will pick him or her up. It’s the only sport in the world open to absolutely everyone, regardless of gender, age, ethnicity or any other division you can think of. It’s the only occasion when thousands of people assemble, often in a major city, for a reason that is totally peaceful, healthy and well-meaning. It’s the only sport in the world where no one ever boos anybody.
And finally, a post that has been making its way around the internet, but is worth sharing again here.
The Washington Post – ‘If you are losing faith in human nature, go out and watch a marathon’
[emphasis added]
The finish line at a marathon is a small marvel of fellowship. Everyone is there to celebrate how much stronger the runners are than they ever thought they could be. Total strangers line up alongside the route to yell encouragement. Bands play. Some hand out cups of water, Gatorade, even beer. Others dress up in costumes to make the runners smile. The fact that other people can run this far makes us believe we can run that far. It’s a happy thought. It makes us all feel a little bit stronger.
Today, the final line of the Boston Marathon is a crime scene. It’s a testament to how much more evil human beings can be than we can imagine.
…If you are losing faith in human nature today, watch what happens in the aftermath of an attack on the Boston Marathon. The flood of donations crashed the Red Cross’s Web site. The organization tweeted that its blood supplies are already full. People are lining up outside of Tufts Medical Center to try and help. Runners are already vowing to be at marathons in the coming weeks and months. This won’t be the last time the squeakers run Boston. This won’t be the last time we gather at the finish line to marvel how much more we can take than anyone ever thought possible.
Boston — I love you. And I grieve for you today.
This is Your Brain on 20 Miles
| April 8, 2013 | Posted by Lauren under Marathon Training, Running |
Yesterday I ran my first 20-miler of this training cycle. No matter how many times I’ve covered the distance, 20 miles always feels really far. Seriously – what is it about the 20 mile distance that makes it feel so much longer than a run of say, 18 miles? I ran 18 a few weeks ago and felt great. Ran 20 yesterday and was wiped out for the rest of the day. Exhausted, sick (well that may have been more to do with my choice of fuel than anything else…more on that in a minute), and unmotivated to do much else but lie on the couch. Funny how 2 measly little miles can make a world of difference.
Anyway…anyone who has ever run 20 miles knows that you don’t just go out and do it. Well, most of us non-elite recreational runners don’t. There’s the build up, the preparation, and then (typically) the roller coaster of emotions to keep you company for the 3ish hours of running. Running 20 miles is a process, a journey.
So, for your enjoyment here’s a glimpse inside the mind of someone who approaches these super long runs with a bit of trepidation.
Reader Warning: Proceed with caution. The following litany of crazy is real. Yes, all these things were really going through my mind yesterday. And yes, I talk to myself during runs. Doesn’t everyone?
Scene: Sunday morning. 7 am. Up, making coffee and toast, obsessively checking the weather.
Why is it only 26 degrees out there? What happened to the beautiful spring weather we had at the end of the week?
Ugh that wind sounds awful. And it’s raining. I think I have a stomachache. Oh no…I’m feeling sick. How am I going to get through 3 hours of running feeling like this? My legs are too tired. And it’s cold. And windy. Maybe I should wait until Monday…
My slight mental exaggeration of the conditions outside as I procrastinated the start of my 20 mile run
3 hours later… (10:00ish am). FINALLY ready to go. Head out in a direction I rarely run to mix it up a little bit.
Yikes! It’s colder out here than I thought. Cold rain, cold wind…maybe shorts wasn’t the best option?
Okay, calm down and shut up. Just run one mile at a time. You can loop back by the house to change in a few miles if you have to.
Woohooo! Never mind. This whole “start downhill” thing is awesome. I’m flying! I love running! Why don’t I run this way more often??
One minute later, a truck comes careening around the corner forcing me to jump into a ditch. Oh yeah, that’s why….
Mile 1: 7:48
Oops. So much for the whole start slow strategy. But this just feels sooo good!
Miles 2 – 4 all clock in under 8:00/mile.
Oh! I’m already at the bridge (my planned turnaround point)! Those 4 miles flew by! I love running so much! Okay – let’s keep going. Just run to the center of the next town and then you can turn around.
Miles 5 – 7. Still holding a sub-8 pace without much effort.
Yikes that wind is really bad. At least I’ll have a tailwind coming back, right? Maybe all the wind will blow some of these clouds away. It’ll be nice to see the sun…
Oh a hill! Where did that come from? Wow…look at this view. I don’t care about the traffic, this run is amazing! I should’ve just planned to run out this way the whole time. Is it too late to call Evan and ask him to pick me up 20 miles from home? I don’t think I want to turn around.
I’M SO HAPPY!! RUNNING IS MY FAVORITE!
(Source - side note: you should probably click that link. Gold mine of happy cat and dog pictures)
Get to the center of town, resign myself to heading back in the other direction. Pace immediately drops.
Ummm…did I really run down all these hills? No wonder I was feeling so good on the way out. I swear the road was flat just a few minutes ago…
WTH is up with this wind?! Why isn’t it at my back? I guess I should take some sort of fuel, maybe that’ll help me feel better.
Pull out the Margarita flavored Clif Shot Bloks that I stuffed in my pack that morning after a frantic search for Gu came up short (note to self: be better prepared next time!).
Nastiness in chewable form
Ugh. These things are the worst! How do people chew and run at the same time?! My teeth. Everything is stuck together. OMG I might gag. This flavor. Why did I think I’d like the taste of margaritas while running?!?! Oh this is so so gross. Okay, fine, I’ll choke down one more and then these things are going away. (I am clearly not overdramatic or anything…)
Seriously, why do these things exist? They need to invent some sort of fuel that just dissolves on your tongue. Like a breath strip! Oh I’m totally going to invent that! I’m going to be the hero of runners everywhere. And will surely make millions. Enough with this chewing while running crap. It takes too much energy.
Hmmm…I guess that’s sort of why they invented Gatorade. No chewing, gives you calories and electrolytes. But Gatorade is nasty. Who wants to run with that crap? Nope, I’m getting to work on this Fuel Strip idea as soon as I get home!
Oh I love this song! Florida Georgia Line + Nelly should be so wrong, but it’s ohso right.
Finally back at the bridge. 10 miles in 1:18…I’ve slowed down, but still keeping a decent pace, all things considered.
Oh my gosh, the sun! I can’t believe it. Rain jacket off, arm warmers pushed down. This is the best and most wonderful day for running. Look at that river. And those mountains! Oh I just love Vermont.
Not really my view from Saturday. But a perfect representation of why I #lovermont
2 miles later…
I’m hungry. Shouldn’t I be back at the house by now? Maybe I should choke down another one of those awful Shot Bloks. Ugh. Or maybe I should just practice without the extra fuel. You know, to run with depleted glycogen stores or something…
NO. That’s stupid. I’m hungry and I’m tired and this wind is pissing me off. Why hasn’t it been at my back this whole time? Am I going crazy??
It was around this time that I started fantasizing about having lunch at my favorite local cafe
Choke down another Shot Blok.
Ugh. I never want to eat these things again. Barf.
Oh but what should I have for lunch when I get back? Crap, I’m hungry. I guess that’s what I get for starting the run around 10:00. How many miles do I have left to run?? {mild panic attack} Ahhh don’t think about that. Just make it back to the house. Focus on one section of this run at a time.
Finally! Back in town! Why did the way back feel soooo much longer than the way out? Oh but I love this view coming into town. It’s so beautiful here. I’m really going to miss it.
{Cue dramatic, emotional mental montage of all the good times we’ve had in this town. Complete with sappy music, of course.}
Hello house! Why did I think running by home during a 20 mile run was a good idea again?!
Throw windbreaker (should also throw arm warmers that have been pushed down to my wrists but feeling way too lazy to get them off).
Miles 15 – 17. Down a familiar stretch for the final miles.
WTH is up with this wind?! It’s getting worse! How have I only run 14 miles at this point? I feel like I’ve been running forever. All that stupid uphill. Now I remember why I don’t run that way…
Okay – focus. Just 3 miles. Past the farm that you wish you could buy and around the corner. You’ve done this run 1 million times. You can do it again. Don’t think about how far. Just think about getting through this next mile. And then you only have 2 more…until you turn around.
AHSLKDFHDSLKHF this wind! Doesn’t it ever stop gusting?? Why did I decide to run in this direction? Am I even moving forward? I want to cry. Or punch someone. I’m gonna punch Wind in its stupid face. Or maybe I’ll just lie down here on the side of the road. That would be nice… I wonder how long it would take for someone to find me.
I’m still hungry. Those stupid nasty Shot Bloks did nothing. I wonder if Evan is waiting for me to eat lunch. Just a few more miles until I can eat all the food! Gah I can’t wait to eat! And foam roll. My feet sure are hurting. So much pounding.
Finally – the turnaround point!! I see it. Maybe I could just turn around a little early. I mean, does 0.2 miles REALLY make that much of a difference?
I swear if I turn around and don’t feel the wind at my back I’m going to scream. I seriously want to murder somebody right now.
This is basically what I felt like. Obviously not an exaggeration at all.
Miles 18 – 20. Tailwind. FINALLY!
This is amazing!!! Downhill. Wind at my back. Oh! Macklemore. Can’t [nobody] Hold ME! Put this on repeat. It’s bringing me home.
Oh – look at that cyclist heading toward me. He’s clearly struggling against this wind. At least I know it wasn’t all in my head. This wind is no joke! Sucks to be you right now, buddy.
Look at that pace! You’re flying! Oh I love this tailwind. And this sun! And Vermont! Let’s see how fast you can finish this thing.
Okay – push up the final hill. Don’t let the pace drop now. You’re almost there. Just hang on….
7:11 final mile baby!! BOOFREAKINGYA! I love running!
And then I proceeded to sit on the back deck for a very very long time, until my hunger finally motivated me to get up and shower.
Long run conquered.
–
Unfortunately my post-run high was short-lived. I spent the rest of the day battling some major, not blog-worthy digestion issues. I’m blaming the margarita shot blocks (consider yourself warned!!). I’ll stick to Gu from here on out, thanks. Or, you know, the yet-to-be-invented Fuel Strip. It’s the wave of the future, I’m telling you.
Getting My Head Straight
| April 4, 2013 | Posted by Lauren under Marathon Training, Running |
Lately I’ve been doing most of my long runs on the same out and back section of road. Every weekend it’s the same. Head out along the road that I’ve come to know like the back of my hand, get to the turning point, and then head back the way I came.
Not the road…and clearly not a recent photo
I’ll be honest with you – it can get pretty monotonous. I know every stretch, every turn, exactly how far I have to go before I can head back toward home. The scenery is always the same and the hills are never changing. Sometimes the way out seems to drag on forever and I spend the entire run counting down the minutes until I can finally turn around.
I really make it sound so appealing, don’t I? I know what you’re all thinking — if I find it so monotonous, why the heck do I keep submitting myself to this form of torture?
Because the truth is that running along the same road week after week provides consistency. And for most of this training cycle, that consistency has been the only thing that gave me the confidence I needed to make it through long runs.
I don’t really know why, but confidence is something that I have really struggled with this time around. Whereas in the past, I sometimes failed to give certain runs the respect they deserved ["Oh, it's 'only' 15 miles. I don't need to worry about silly things like getting enough sleep, fueling, carrying water, or really think about the fact that I have to run for 2 hours without stopping!"], I now find myself with the complete opposite problem. Every single long run just seems so intimidating. I sit there in the morning stressing about the distance. Psyching myself out before I even take one step.
This all culminated before my recent 18-miler. I was so freaked out about the run that I kept putting it off…and almost backed out of doing it altogether. This was not your typical pre-long run anxiety — you know that mix of excitement and nerves that comes from not quite knowing how your body is going to feel that day. A feeling that boosts your adrenaline and can actually help propel you through the long run, because ultimately you’re just excited about the challenge and can’t wait to see how it’ll go.
I’m embarrassed to admit that this fear was quite literally crippling. That one run seemed like such an insurmountable challenge that I was ready to give up on VCM right then and there. Forget spring marathons…forget marathon training at all. I would focus on shorter races. Or maybe I would just retire from racing. Clearly I’m not cut out for it.
Believe me, I realize how silly and over-dramatic this all sounds. Typing it out now only makes it seem more ridiculous. But in the moment, I just couldn’t get out of my own head. I somehow forgot about one very important detail: this whole running thing is not my career. It’s not even a side job. It’s merely a hobby that I enjoy…and one at which I sometimes pretend to be mildly talented.
So after a few days (no, seriously…days) of freaking out about this run — a run that no one was forcing me to do or even cared if I completed — I finally was able to talk myself down from the ledge. By telling myself of two things:
1.) All you need to do is run ONE MILE at a time. That’s it. Get out the door. Put one foot in front of the other and run. If you only make it 5 or 10 or 15 miles, who cares. Just run one mile. And when you complete that one, run another. You don’t know how you’re going to do until you try.
2.) You finished a run along this same road last week. You did it before and you can do it again. All you have to do is run one more mile out…and then you can turn around. What’s one mile? Nothing.
These two tiny assurances completely turned the run around for me. As I mentioned in my last post, that 18 miles ended up being the best run I’ve had in a long time. And by far the best long run of this current training cycle. It’s amazing what happens when you stop being a crazy mental-case runner and start cutting yourself a little slack. Who would’ve thought…
I can’t say that the self-doubt has completely gone away. It’s still work to get my head straight — to keep my confidence up. But now, when I feel myself getting nervous about a run or a workout, I try to take a step back and remind myself that it’s just running. All I can do is go out and give it my best shot. And instead of focusing on what I can’t do or paces that I’m not hitting, I repeat two simple lines over and over again to get me through a particularly difficult or intimidating stretch.
I AM STRONG.
I AM ABLE.
Six words of reassurance. Six words that silence the doubt. Six words that are helping me keep my head straight…most of the time, anyway.
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