Category: Marathon Training
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.
Learning to Love Hills Again
| March 20, 2013 | Posted by Lauren under Marathon Training, Running |
Like many runners, I have a love/hate relationship with hills — meaning I love when a nice gradual downhill helps push me along to a fast pace…and hate when those climbs slow me down and leave my chest heaving.
When I moved to Vermont and realized that hills were going to become a part of my everyday running reality whether I liked it or not, I kind of learned to embrace them. I’ll even go so far as to say that after awhile I grew to prefer rolling runs to flat land. Case in point, during last August’s Hood to Coast relay, my least favorite (and slowest!) leg was also my flattest.
But then the holidays happened and this endless winter descended upon us and my love for hills slowly faded away. I don’t really know why or how it happened, but somewhere along the way I completely lost my hill running motivation. It’s impossible to avoid all hills around here (unless you run inside every day), but I quickly figured out how to steer clear of the worst ones. All winter long I finagled my routes — sticking with the slow, gradual climbs and the nice flat treadmill. When you live in a town with approximately 4 roads and only one of them feels flat for any significant stretch of time, running gets boring pretty darn fast.
Not only did my runs grow stale and boring, but my “hill terrors” haven’t exactly been helping my training. Because there’s also a tiny little problem of that marathon I signed up to run in May. It’s not flat.
So last week, after giving myself approximately 2,000,000 pep talks, I finally got pumped up enough to tackle one of the hilliest out-and-back routes around. A route that starts off with a steep climb and continues going up for over a mile. A route that doesn’t have a single stretch of completely flat road but is instead a constant roller coaster of ups and downs. A route that I used to be strong enough to do tempo runs on last fall but I’ve been avoiding like the plague ever since 2013 began.
I strapped on my Garmin to record the data but told myself that I wasn’t allowed to even peek at my splits until the turn around point (which just so happens to be at the base of a very long climb). Then I turned on my most motivational playlist, took a deep breath…and off I went.
I’m not going to lie — it sucked. That first climb, the one that I have to get myself all psyched up to even attempt, was worse than I remembered. And it wasn’t like it got easier after that. Every single incline seemed to have grown steeper and longer in my absence…while the declines were too few and far between. I felt like I was crawling. I couldn’t even pick up much speed on the downhill sections. My legs were so tired that even convincing them to increase their turnover on the declines seemed like too much effort.
It may not look like much according to this chart, but I swear they feel harder in person…
Hills in elevation chart are larger than they appear
Turns out that when you avoid all major hills for over 3 months, you lose a whole lot of your hill-running fitness. Pretty deep and insightful observation, right?
But even though the run left me wondering how I ever managed to get in quality workouts over this course just a few months ago, it wasn’t all bad. Because there’s a moment on this particular run when you reach the top of the very last climb and the world opens up. You see rolling farmland on your right and mountains ahead and you know that it is quite literally all downhill from here. A moment when every single climb you tackled becomes worth it — for the view, for the fact that you get to cruise down to the finish over a mile away, for the pride you feel knowing that you survived the roller coaster. It was at that moment when I finally remembered why I loved that running route so very much. And where I resolved to start embracing the hilly runs again.
To keep good on my promise, I headed out on Saturday to tackle another hill that I’ve been working hard to avoid. Remember how I said this run was my favorite route for runs that are under 12 miles? Well, that’s because around mile 6 the road takes a very steep, long drop down for almost 2 miles — which means if I head out that way, I need to turn around and run back up the awful thing. That long, winding climb is the very definition of “soul crushing.” The only thing I can do when I’m running up it is focus on getting through one turn at a time, promising myself that I’ll walk once I make it through that particular section. I haven’t actually walked yet (though my pace may suggest otherwise!), but I’m still awaiting the day when I can run up that hill like it’s nothing. I’m not really expecting that day to ever come…
No the road doesn’t end there. It just drops sharply downward.
But I am going to keep climbing. This post serves as my promise (or my source of public shaming if I don’t follow through). For the rest of my training, I’m going to be tackling these hills at least once a week (probably more). Hills make you stronger, they make you faster, and they give you confidence. If I can tackle these hills in training then surely I can tackle the hills on race day. And I will be a better runner for it.
The Uphill Climb
| February 5, 2013 | Posted by Lauren under Marathon Training, Running |
There’s a road by my house that climbs gradually uphill for almost 6 straight miles. The hill isn’t awful or intimidating. It doesn’t zap all your energy or leave you feeling like it’s the hardest route you’ve ever taken. In fact, the incline is so slight in those first few miles that you may even think you’re just running on flat ground.
Looks pretty flat, right? (Obviously not a recent photo…)
But it’s the type of hill that wears you out slowly. That leaves you feeling a little more tired than you expect, and makes you wonder why your paces seem so off. As the miles stretch on, the grade gradually gets a little steeper until you finally realize that you’ve been gaining elevation all along. Just before 6 miles, you arrive at the summit…and that’s where you turn around. Because to continue on means running down a steep “mountain” only to have to turn around and climb back up for 2 miles. This is the not-so-fun part about the run. We’re not going to talk about that part today.
For runs under 12 miles, this is my absolute favorite route. Not only because it’s beautiful or because it’s actually the flattest run I can do these days, but because of that moment when I get to turn around. That one moment when I realize that it’s literally all downhill from here. I love telling myself that if I put in the work during the first half, the rest is a piece of cake. It’s not always the truth, but it sure works wonders for my motivation.
View on the run (taken while not running)
The very first time I ran this road last summer I thought I was just really out of shape. I couldn’t believe how tired I felt when, according to my watch, I was keeping a pace that should’ve felt easy. My legs were heavy and my motivation severely lacking as I slowly trudged out to the 2 mile mark, lamenting about my long road back to any sort of endurance.
And then I turned around. Suddenly it was as though I had gotten a second wind. I was filled with energy, my pace dropped significantly, the lead left my legs and I was flying. I couldn’t believe it. Maybe I was fitter than I gave myself credit for! I had a few moments of bliss, patting myself on the back for essentially being such an awesome runner. Those months of forced rest had nothing on me.
Until I looked to my right. And noticed that the river and I were actually traveling in the same direction. I was running downhill. (and yes, my observation skills often leave much to be desired…)
Not the joint-jarring type of hill that automatically gives you crazy speed or fast turnover, but enough. Enough to make you feel lighter. Enough to make you want to push harder to see just how fast you can make it back home.
Just enough of a hill to make you feel slower on the way out without realizing why
I don’t always have the best run of my life every time I head out in this direction. Running is often hard, and even the assistance of a slight downhill all the way home doesn’t change that. But no matter how tough the run is going, I like to tell myself that I only need to make it halfway. If I can just hang in there until the turnaround, running back will be a breeze. The first half is the hardest — the second is the reward for all that hard work.
This is how I feel about training as well. I think about this road as a good metaphor for a training cycle. That first half of any training plan is a struggle — to regain fitness, to find the motivation, to get yourself back into a routine, to hit your paces…to feel like the strong runner you know you can be.
Those first few weeks are more about surviving runs than enjoying them. It’s an uphill battle to get myself back to where I need to be…to the point where certain paces come easy and every double distance run doesn’t wipe me out for the entire day. To the point where I’m craving a hard workout instead of simply trying to struggle through it.
But I keep putting in the work because at some point in the cycle, I make it to that turnaround. Where suddenly, things start to click. My runs get faster without much effort and I finally hit paces I’m proud of. It’s not always easy from that point on, but everything just feels better. Running becomes natural again.
I’m not there yet. I’m still running uphill every day, and expect to do so for awhile. It’s a gradual climb, but one that leaves me worn out and wondering when the speed will return. I have glimpses of how it will be — moments during a run when everything clicks and I feel as though I could go forever. Times when I feel awesome. But those moments are more the exception than the rule these days. Most of the time I count simply making it through as a victory.
I’m sure the cold temperatures have something to do with it. Facing single digits (or even the treadmill) every run just adds to the whole “uphill battle” feeling. But I’m hoping that if I keep climbing over these next few weeks, things will start clicking around the time the temperatures start rising.
What’s that thing they say — a fast spring is built in the freezing winter? Or something slightly more profound than that… Well let’s hope that a fast spring is built on gradual uphill climbs as well. Because I feel like that’s my specialty these days.
Embrace the Base
| January 10, 2013 | Posted by Lauren under Marathon Training, Running |
The base of the mountain.
The base of fresh powder.
…the base of marathon training.
Also known as that wonderful time when you pretty much get to run whatever you want — however far, however fast, and however often you feel like heading out.
As much as I complain about an overall lack of motivation to get out the door these days, I don’t really have a problem once I’m out there. Despite the cold and my overall lack of endurance, running during this base building time is actually my favorite. And I kind of forgot how much I missed it.
When I started training for NYCM last summer, I jumped right into a training plan – from “0″ to prescribed workouts in one week. Not really smart, and not exactly recommended for marathon success. I was still careful with the build up, but I missed out on that whole “get your endurance back phase” that’s a pretty critical cornerstone of marathon training. Without endurance, you can’t really focus on gaining speed (since you’re just focused on getting in the miles). And without speed, your sole focus becomes simply completing the race — not necessarily improving your time.
Which is fine — if completion is your goal. For a first race or a new distance PR, completion should be the #1 priority. But for your 7th marathon? Not so much.
So this time around, I’m Embracing the Base. Taking my time to build up some sort of endurance before I really need to start focused marathon training. Base building looks differently for everyone — some runners keep a great base year round. Others build up slowly to 15 – 20 miles and use that as a jumping-off point. My goal right now is to shoot for 40 miles per week at the end of January and build my marathon training from there.
I’ve put together a plan (above) but it’s just a guideline. A basic path that shows where I am now and where I want to end up. The beauty of the base building phase is that the specific workouts don’t matter. I want to shoot for running 40 miles per week at the beginning of training, but I won’t stress if I’m a few miles under or over that goal. My only plan is to run (semi)unplanned for the next few weeks.
Which means:
- Running easy. I am happily enjoying a month with no prescribed speed workouts. While I fully believe that those workouts are essential to running a faster marathon (as opposed to just piling on the miles), I think I’ll be doing enough of them for the 16 weeks leading up to VCM. So the speed can wait.
- Running happy. I’m also not planning on setting any sort of goal paces for the next few weeks. If I want to go slow for every single run, I will. Just like I won’t stop myself if I’m feeling especially excited to be out running and want to throw in a few fast miles just for the heck of it. The important thing right now is to just get back into running regularly again.
- Running naked. When I’m in the thick of training, my Garmin is like an extra appendage. Whether it’s keeping me slow on recovery runs or helping me hit goal paces during speed workouts, I rarely leave home without it. But for now I’m enjoying my ability to run naked. The time to stress about the watch will come.
- Running free. I usually plan my routes based on the type of workout I need to complete — hills, tempo, recovery, long run — I have a different route I like to take for each of these runs. But now? I lace up my shoes, pick a direction, and go. Sometimes this means that I don’t get in quite as many miles as I had put on my base building plan, sometimes it may mean that I run more. That’s the beauty of running free.
- Running balanced. Meaning not always running – but instead taking the time to cross train and strength train. It’s so easy to let these activities go when I’m training. Even if I technically have time to lift or cross train, I’m way less motivated to do either because of the way it might interfere with my running. Oh I can’t lift — my legs will be too sore for my speed workout tomorrow. Oh, cross training uses different muscles and I can’t really handle those muscles being sore right now. I need to run long tomorrow. See? The excuses are easy to generate. Right now I don’t really have any excuse to not lift (or ones that are legitimate, anyway…). So I’m not only dragging my butt to the gym for 30 minutes of strength training torture twice a week, but I’m also rewarding myself with lots of fun cross training activities — of the outdoor, winter sport variety (what else can you do to make the long winter in Vermont more bearable?).
This is my fancy gym. It’s within walking distance of my house. It’s also little more than a glorified hotel fitness center. I bet you’re all jealous.
For the next few weeks, I’ll be enjoying stress-free, no pressure running. The kind of running that makes you fall back in love with the sport. And leaves you hungry for more.
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