Filed under: The Race, Training Runs | Tags: days off, dreams, gu, long run, marathon, nerves, Rest Days, running, shoes, short run, Taper
I purchased new shorts and a lovely blue lightweight tech shirt for the race. I tried the shorts out on my last “long” run – eight miles – and, disappointingly, they rode up a little. Most shorts do that when I run, but with a predicted temperature of seventy-three degrees (most runners dress for temperatures twenty degrees warmer than the actual, so do the math on that one), I’m going to go with my capris. I don’t want to be picking cloth away from myself for nearly five hours.
My Asics should be broken in enough. I was thinking of using my Guides, but I’ve done my last three weeks of running in these shoes, so Asics it will be.
I’m having anxiety dreams: I fly to the wrong city. I wake up too late. I get injured at the start of the course. I’ve forgotten my running sneakers.
Lists are beginning to form in my mind: Gu packets. Shoes and clothes. Body glide. Ibuprofen. Socks. Ponytail holders. Headband. (I can’t find my stupid headband!) Course map for friends and family. Watch. Sunblock. Camera.
There are other things I can’t control that I must make myself stop worrying about. Weather’s a big one. I haven’t run in hot weather at all. Worse than that, though, is the idea of a race cancellation. The ten-day weather forecast predicts scattered thundershowers all weekend. I’ve seen those Midwestern storms, and I’ve seen that lightning. It’s out of my hands, I know, but please, please let there be decent weather. I don’t know what I would do if these nine months were all for nothing.
I’ve gotten myself worked up, though, so it’s time to calm down. That’s what the Taper is for: recovery, relaxation, mental preparation. You hardly run, you eat a lot, you try not to obsess.
Six days.
Filed under: Dealing, Inspiration, The Race, Training Runs | Tags: good advice, Inspiration, marathon, nerves, running, short run
It’s going to be that kind of week. Working at a running store in Boston means that when April begins, you don’t slow down until a week after the Boston Marathon is over. If you’re training for a marathon yourself, that means you succumb quietly, with barely a whimper, to insanity.
(Tangent: Has anyone ever noticed – at least those who’ve been to my city – that if you tell a Bostonite you’re running a Spring race other than the Boston Marathon, people look slightly bewildered? They get that same perturbed, sort of Linus-y worried look that I imagine people had when they found out the world wasn’t flat. Ok, end of tangent.)
Anyway, I was talking to a fellow coworker and runner about marathoning today. She asked me if I had a reason for running, because it’s always the reason, the mental resolve, that gets you through the last six miles. Nothing can prepare you for what it’s really like to run the Marathon, she said, but you’ll do it because you have a reason. What’s your reason? she wanted to know.
I usually don’t share things like that with coworkers anymore. I’ve learned well and hard that keeping things separate from work, keeping your own dirty laundry and your own secrets, your own emotional highs, middles, and lows, protects you in some way. You’re not as vulnerable. You’re not as open to judgment. But something made me tell her, at least a very brief and spare version.
“I just got chills,” she said. ”You know how I know you’ll finish? Because no matter how hard it is, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how much you want to stop running, you’ll remember that what you’re feeling during those last six miles is nothing compared to what you’ve already lived through. You’ve already survived something far harder than a marathon. Let that thought take you to the end.”
Filed under: The Race, Training Runs | Tags: beginners, long run, marathon, nerves, running
C and I ran just under fourteen miles last night. The weather was stunning, with a light breeze and cool, dusky spring temperatures. Sadly, the run was not nearly as beautiful as the weather. We thought we were running a pretty good pace, but we kept on having to stop at red lights, and then C had to use the bathroom, and worst of all, it’s Passover and I’ve been consuming nothing but matzoh and my legs felt awful. I felt far worse after last night’s run than after my 18-miler! Luckily, bread-eating will begin again in 24 hours, so I’ll once more be able to consume my pre-run snack: Peanut butter on whole wheat toast, a banana, and a big glass of water. Oh, my calves can’t wait for that snack.
I have to admit that I’m in the midst of a big case of pre-race nervousness. Will one 20-miler be enough? What if I haven’t done enough hill training? What if I bonk at mile 22? Or Mile 24? Or any mile? What if I still get injured? What if I come down with a stomach virus? What if I don’t finish under 5 hours? What if I wake up late and miss the start time? What if I twist my ankle during the race? Or during my taper weeks? Or at work? What if I’m simply not ready? EEEeeeeeee…..someone throw me a rope….
Anyway, at least C and I ate frozen yogurt with strawberries after the run. It was absolutely delicious. It’s always nice to end a hard run with a good meal! Someone also asked me out for coffee while C and I were eating! I was wearing black running capris, muddy sneakers, mismatching socks, a paint-stained tank top, and a Phillies cap over my sweaty, limp hair. Apparently I should wear outfits like this all the time.
(I said no. Sorry, folks…)
Filed under: Longest Run Ever | Tags: Boston Marathon, good day, healing, Heartbreak Hill, hills, Inspiration, long run, marathon, nerves, running routes, struggle
I’m sorry. It’s been…almost a month. No updates, no nothing. It’s not that I forgot, it’s that I’ve been a bit overwhelmed. Combine peak marathon training with 10-hour shifts, gigs, and the sudden re-emergence of late-night phone calls, and you get one exhausted girl.
Today’s my first day off in about a week. I have homemade chicken soup simmering on the stove, I’ve got my taxes done, I’ve got my bills paid, and as of Sunday, I’ve checked off my first eighteen-miler.
My friend’s boyfriend drove us to Framingham at 6:30 this past Sunday, five miles into the Boston Marathon course. It was the first time I’d ever done anything like that, and it was a very disconcerting feeling. As the car left the city and began to meander into the suburbs, and then onto tree-lined roads, and a half hour went by and we were still driving, I began to get very nervous. I began to realize that we were far, far away from home, and we were about to be stranded there, with nothing but a couple of Gu’s, a couple of water bottles, and our own feet, and that the only way to get back home was to RUN THERE.
It was a profoundly scary moment.
And then it ended, because we started running, and it was sunny, gorgeous, and three weeks out from the Boston Marathon, and everyone was outside, everyone was running, and there was this amazing sense of community and accomplishment and self-satisfaction. Little kids sat at tables, giving out little cups of free lemonade. The local running stores and shoe companies had set up tents where you could grab a water or a Gatorade. People opened their doors to runners who needed a quick bathroom break. Some of them even gave out doggie treats for those who were running with their pets. There was hardly any traffic, and the few drivers that came by honked friendly greetings and waved.
This was not to say that the run wasn’t challenging. The Boston Marathon is a famous race for more than one reason, and one of those reasons is that the course is NOT easy. The hills are frequent, gaining in intensity as you draw near to the infamous Heartbreak Hill, a slow and steady grind that comes after two steeper hills, when your energy is drained, your glycemic index is rock bottom, and you’re just ready to be done running. We scaled it and survived it, though, and I feel more than prepared for the Pig. It will be hilly in Cincinnati, but nothing like this.
I was very unprepared, as usual, for what that kind of running did to my body. I worked a busy day at the store, and by 4 PM I was so tired and weary that I actually wanted to cry – not because I was sad, but because I felt that crying would be a nice way to relax and let off a little bit of steam. I took an ice bath, but I still had to lean all my weight on the railings when walking up and down the stairs. In the middle of the night, I woke up feeling so awful that I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t even identify what was wrong. There was no actual spot that hurt; I just felt incredibly strange. I mechanically went to the kitchen, spotted a banana in the corner, and snarfed it down. It was one of the most delicious things I had ever tasted. I went into the bathroom, popped four advil into my mouth, drank a full glass of water, and slept like a stone. I woke up the next morning and felt fine.
This weekend I have a fourteen-miler, which sounds like peanuts to me at this point, and the following weekend I will be running twenty miles. TWENTY MILES. And my friend will be running the Boston Marathon the next day, so I will have to do it alone.
It will be my last Longest Run Ever before the Flying Pig Marathon.
Filed under: Inspiration, races | Tags: endorphins, good day, half marathon, hills, Inspiration, marathon, nerves, races, running, slow
I love what happens after a race, after a hot shower and a good meal, how the body and the mind wilt into beautiful relaxation, for once in harmony with one another, basking in accomplishment. I’m back home from Hyannis, in scrubs and an old college sweatshirt, barefoot, lying back on my soft bed as I type this. I pushed myself today, and it paid off.
Everyone was expecting a windy, rainy day, but the weather was just fine, clear and cold and even a little sunny. The course was pleasant, filled with rolling hills and the salt smell of the ocean. I kept a steady ten-minute-mile pace through the whole race, which is slow for most but a pretty big deal for me.
As with Disney, I’ll list a few memorable things below:
- Nerves. Nerves like whoah. I was running with a bunch of people from work, all of whom are very fast. Though I love working at a running store, it has given me a slight speed complex. A sub-two-hour half marathon is peanuts to most of them, and I struggled to crank out a 2:10 (edit: coolrunning says 2:11.41 – rats) today. I’m proud of my race time, and they don’t judge me, but it did make me a bit self conscious at the race start.
- The view of the sea. I loved the salt air, swinging into my face as I rounded a curve. If I ever doubt God, the sea squelches that doubt. It is alive, frightening, beautiful, peaceful.
- The new runners. I stuck around in the cold (it was absolutely frigid, honestly – when you’ve finished a big race, your body temperature plummets like a stone) to see some of the other finishers. I saw two people grab each others’ hands as they crossed the finish line. There was an overweight man who, as he crossed the finish, had such a look of fierce, proud determination on his face that it gave me chills. Two girls did cartwheels as they finished.
- My friend Mandy, who woke up before 6 AM and rode in the car for 1.5 hours each way, just to cheer for me and her friend. Soon I need to devote an entry to how amazing my friends are.
Now begins the steady grind to May. The Flying Pig is nine weeks away. We kick up the miles and the intensity starting this week. I’ve got one more 5K before the marathon, but from now on, it’s go-time.
