Glorious taper

Finally, the best part of marathon training has arrived – taper!  This is the period leading up to the big day when I ease up and let myself rest.  I’m not doing any run a step longer than 12 miles from now until May 24th.  Woohoo!  After 15 weeks of marathon training, preceded by a tough half marathon training plan, my body is incredibly thankful for the break.

It’s hard to believe that I’m here and that the marathon is so close now.  Overall, I’m feeling good.  I have some traveling pains but nothing (knock wood) to be concerned about.  I felt good throughout the training, especially my two 20 milers.  I only did one 20 last time around and it ended in tears.  These two were cake walks in comparison.

My only source of stress at the moment is that I have absolutely no idea what my goal is for this race.  With only one previous marathon under my belt, I don’t have a lot to go on.  That marathon took me 4:45 minutes to complete.  From start to finish, I had a near constant pace of 10:53 min./mile.   Never, before or since, have I run anything close to that pace.  I won’t say I was disappointed by my time – I was too elated that I finished – but it was certainly the slowest I’d ever run.  Ever.  Even my tearful 20 miler was faster.  How then do I use this as my jumping-off point?

During Philly, I was terrified that I wouldn’t finish.  I heard so much about “hitting the wall” that I feared it with every fiber of my being.  I ran ultra-conservatively to ensure that it didn’t happen.  Now, I’m more confident.  I know that I can finish.  I know what happens in those last 6.2 miles.  What do I plan for?  My 20 mile training runs were done at a comfortable pace in 3:07 and 3:10.  Assuming I can at least maintain that same pace in the marathon, that would have me finishing the race in about…well, a lot faster than 4:45.  So much faster, in fact, that it seems unrealistic and way too lofty a goal.  I admit that I do feel more pressure this time around though.  In Philly, it was all about seeing if I could finish.  This time, it’s about seeing what I’m capable of.

I still don’t know what I’ll shoot for but I have three full weeks of taper to think about it.

Hold it right there

In typical New England fashion, summer tore suddenly through Massachusetts this weekend right on the coat tails of a bitter cold winter.  I knew this would happen, I tried to prepare for it and yet  it still caught me off guard.  In my pre-running days, the sudden jump into shorts and flip-flops was a joyous occasion.  Now, not so much.  I want to be happy.  I really do.  Unfortunately, my body revolts when asked to run in warm temps.  I just can’t seem to acclimate.

It all started with an 8 miler on Saturday morning.  I headed out early, around 8:00 or so.  I felt OK at first but all too quickly, the temperature began creeping up.  By about halfway through, I thought HOLY CRAP AM I RUNNING ON THE SURFACE OF THE SUN???  Sweat poured over every inch of my body and each step felt like a monumental effort.  The desire to stop and lay down on the side of the road in a pool of my own sweat and tears was hard to resist.  Somehow, I managed to make it home, vowing to do better the following morning.  I checked the weather to see what conditions I had been running in…and then I checked again…and again because surely I was misreading something.  SIXTY FOUR degrees??  Did they accidentally invert the 6?  Surely it should read 94 degrees, right?

Sunday morning dawned hotter than the day before.  My long run was “just” 12 miles, a planned rest between the two 20 milers in my training schedule.  I dressed in shorts and a tank and tried to mentally accept that it would be hot but that I’d get through it.  Our long run group had dwindled to four people:  Barry and I plus two others who were out for a short, post-marathon recovery run.  After running with them for a few short miles, we were on our own.  The heat took about .04 seconds to start affecting me.  The route, probably the hilliest of the season, upped the difficulty factor even more.  Oh, but it doesn’t end there, folks.  Once some of the worst hills were behind us, we began a nice long stretch alongside the highway.  There was no relief from the sun and the whizzing of cars on Rt. 93 was our only distraction.  For a while, I thought I was doing OK.  I rationed my water and turned on my iPod when I needed a boost through a difficult section.  Unfortunately, these things could only carry me so far.  As soon as I hit the last hilly section, I knew I was toast.  The temperature had risen to 78 (I later found out) and I felt myself becoming dizzy and a bit disoriented.  Just get to 12, just get to 12, I told myself.  On the last stretch, with just a quarter mile to go, I really lost it.  I broke out with goosebumps all over and started to shake from the chills.  At 11.91 miles, I stopped, unable to continue for the mere 30 seconds or so that I had left.  It was a bad end to a bad run.

Last night capped off my hot weather trilogy.  Tuesdays are club run nights.  They’re a lot of fun, especially in the nice weather when tons of people show up.  Once again, I tried to accept the conditions and work through them.  Once again, I lost the will to live.  My planned 8 miler quickly fell off track.  I slogged through as much of the run as I could but I called it a day at three miles.  I had no desire to go on.  Of course, being sick (allergies?  cold?  swine flu?) didn’t help but I’d be lying if I said the heat wasn’t the biggest factor.

All of this bad running really has me worried.  I’ve trained through a winter of relentless snow and rain, bitter cold temps and icy winds.  I’m prepared for a February marathon.  If I’m presented with an 80 degree day, I’m officially doomed.  I sincerely question whether it would even be worth showing up at the starting line.  Pessimistic?  Yes but I know my limitations.  This weekend is my last long run of somewhere between 20-22 miles.  So far, it’s looking to be sunny with temps in the low 60s.  It should be manageable but it won’t be enough to prepare me for a hot marathon if I should be so unlucky.

All I can do is hope and pray that Mother Nature will put on the brakes and hold the temperature right here.  For once, please let us have Spring!  After Memorial Day, she can give me 100+ degrees and I won’t complain.  Hell, she can give me more snow and I won’t complain.  Just please, please give me something I can work with on M-day because good lord I can not work with the heat.

The group effect

Sunday long runs are the highlight of my running week.  I look forward to them, primarily because I do these runs with a running club and having company always makes the miles pass quickly.  Lately, I’ve found that I’m at an in-between pace, with most people running either a little faster or a little slower than what I want to do.  Though I should probably be conservative and opt for a slower pace, I’ve found myself latching on (sometimes with significant effort) to the faster group.  While I usually huff and puff a bit more than I’d like, I’ve really seen the benefits of pushing myself out of my comfort zone.  It first became noticeable in my half marathon race times and I’ve recently noticed that my training runs are also getting faster.  After my 20 miler last weekend, I was really curious so I looked back at my training log for the Phildalphia Marathon and was shocked at what I saw.  Check out these stats:

• Philly training 13 miler:  2:10:56  Average Pace: 10:04 min. per mile  (Done during Wicked Half Mara.)
• VT training 13 miler:  1:53:49  Average Pace: 8:45 min. per mile  (Done during New Bedford Half Mara.)

• Philly training 16 miler:  2:45:16  Average Pace: 10:19 min. per mile
• VT training 16 miler:  2:29:28 Average Pace: 9:20 min. per mile

• Philly training 18 miler:  3:03:53  Average Pace: 10:13 min. per mile
• VT training 18 miler:  2:46:22  Average Pace: 9:14 min. per mile

• Philly training 20 miler:  3:29:15  Average Pace: 10:27 min. per mile
• VT training 20 miler:  3:10:14  Average Pace: 9:30 min. per mile

As I look this info over, I’m astounded.  I really am.  I don’t point it out to be boastful.  I’m not a phenomenal runner and I’ll never lead the pack but it still makes me happy to see this progress.  Whether you’re fast or slow or somewhere in between, you never want to be stagnant.  I don’t, anyway.  It feels amazing to know that I’m working hard and it’s paying off.

My point in saying all this is that I truly believe that group running has been the biggest factor in my improvement.  I don’t think the group pushes me to be competitive.  Rather, it pulls me forward.  I feel more motivated to do well when I’m surrounded by good conversation and encouraging words.  The effort of running is less pronounced when I’m not alone, paying attention to my watch and to every last detail of every step.  It’s easier to run to the best of my ability when I have inspiring people all around me.  I really love the duality of running.  It can be such a singular sport, offering an outlet from stress and time to zone out when you head off on your own.  On the flip side, there’s a real sense of camaraderie if you seek it.  Who knew that group running could be a natural performance enhancer as well?  It’s a very pleasant surprise.

The plans

They’re here!  They’re here!  I’m very excited to have the plans for our kitchen.  The galley-ish design is more of a necessity than a choice.  We really only have one wall to work with plus a small spot near the living room for pantry cabinets.  Every other inch of our kitchen is occupied by doorways, windows and closets.  Nonetheless, I think this will be a vast improvement over what we currently have.  It should open the kitchen up and let us make the most of our space.  (Click for full size image.)   

The beginning of a new kitchen

After 11 months in our dated, yellow, impractical kitchen, we’re finally ready to gut the whole thing.  Woo hoo!!!  We survived the past year but it wasn’t always easy.  This day couldn’t come soon enough.  I don’t look forward to weeks upon weeks with no kitchen but it will be worth the sacrifice.  Tonight, we meet with the designer to finalize our layout and cabinet selections.

We also made our first purchase - the world’s most perfect granite.  We’re going for a light and airy look, since the kitchen is the darkest room in our house with windows in the back only.  Our criteria for the granite was:  light in color, gray tones and movement, i.e. not a uniform speckled pattern throughout.  These criteria cut down our selection tremendously but when we saw our slab, we knew it was the one.  We literally walked into a massive warehouse, walked up to the very first one on the left and told the saleswoman, we want this one.  Of course, she encouraged us to browse around but we looked at everything and went back to that first one.  It happened to be taken and was the last of its kind on site but they managed to locate another slab for us.  I’ve not been this excited about a hunk of rock since…well, ever.  I cannot wait to see this in my kitchen in place of the sunshine yellow laminate.

Love at first listen

I saw these guys on SNL the Saturday before last.  Why have I never heard of them before?  I’m looking forward to checking out the new album when it’s released next month.  Unfortunately, it’s being realeased on 5/26, just two days after the VT marathon.  It would have been nice to have some fresh new music during the race.  Oh well.  Until then, I’m listening to their EP over and over again.

http://www.hulu.com/watch/66321/saturday-night-live-phoenix-1901

Undone

I think I’m usually pretty tough when it comes to running.  For the most part, I can stick it out even when I’m suffering.  I can grin and bear it through cold, wind, snow, ice, pain and exhaustion.  There are, however, a few things that will cause me to come undone.  Numero uno is, and always will be, the heat.  Number two is rain.  I sometimes hear people say that they love walking or running in the rain.  More power to them but I simply don’t see the joy in it.  You’ll never catch me smiling and kicking up my heels as I splash through puddles.

After the monsoon (ok, I exaggerate) of a few weeks ago, I was all set with the rain for a while.  When I woke up this morning and saw the forecast calling for rain in the AM, clearing for sun around noon, I decided to push my run til later.  Bad plan.  The forecast changed and the rain decided to wait until the afternoon.  I hoped I could stay dry for at least a little while but alas, the drops started falling not two minutes into my 13 miler.  As with the last rainy day, it only got worse as the run progressed.

It was just Barry and I running our own personal half marathon today so there was not a lot of distraction.  We both slipped into an iPod-induced trance and tried to get through it.  I’d say I did OK until about mile 8.  At that point, the rain got much heavier.  I wore clothes made of wicking fabric and a windbreaker on top but after over an hour in the elements, they were drenched.  Even the best running gear has to wave the white flag at a certain point.

When I turned a corner onto one of the last stretches of road, I felt myself mentally losing it.  I was cold, wet and miserable.  The gravel that I’d kicked up along the way was stuck in the top of my socks, rubbing like sandpaper on my ankles.  Rain was getting in my eyes and irritating my contacts.  I was angry yet I simultaneously had the urge to cry.  I picked up the pace in an effort to make it end sooner.  I soon lost Barry and I felt bad but I knew I was unravelling and I had to do whatever was necessary to get through it.  I was disoriented and wasn’t paying as much attention to my surroundings as I probably should have.  I’m sure I was quite a sight.  I remember when, before I was a runner, I would see people outside plodding through rain, snow or heat looking miserable and I’d think to myself:  Why would a person choose to do that to himself?  I can only imagine how many people said that today as they drove by me in all my misery.  In fact, if stopped and pressed for an answer, I probably would have thrown up my hands and said “BECAUSE I’M OUT OF MY F’ING MIND!!”

After what felt like an eternity, I finally finished:  13.o8 miles in 1:58:55 – stupidly fast for a training run during a step-back week.  It’s only a few minutes off my half marathon PR for pete’s sake.  I know I’ll pay for it tomorrow but what’s done is done.  The misery is behind me.  Appropriately enough, just seconds before arriving at my house, I ran by a dead woodchuck lying face-up in a puddle, arms and legs rigid, with an expression of horror on its face.  I thought to myself:  I know just how you feel.

Behold the face of unhappiness:

Also, please note that this is my third layer and it is nearly saturated.  Yuck.  I’m only smiling because I know a hot shower is 30 seconds away.  I’ll spare you the pictures but my 4th layer (aka underwear) was equally drenched.

I’m off to curl up on the couch with some wine and look forward to a brighter day.

Of things to come

I don’t like to make plans too far ahead, especially running plans.  I’m superstitious and all too aware that anything can go wrong from one moment to the next.  However, sometimes advanced planning is a necessity, not a choice.  This already topped our list of places to visit so it’s a commitment I’m not too terrified to make:

 

Q1 Results

Earlier in the year, I set some goals for 2009.  I also set up a little training ticker on this blog to help me keep track.  I’m a planner and I love to keep records and make spreadsheets and crunch numbers so as dorky as it seems, I’m having fun with this.  Anyway, as of 4/1, I was close to my target:

Total Miles Run:  350  (target – 375)

Races:

• The Great Stew Chase 15k
• Hyannis Half Marathon
• New Bedford Half Marathon

Total Miles Raced:  35.5  (target – 25)

Knock wood, this is the most consistency I’ve ever been able to achieve in my running life.  Stay away, injuries!

Saturation

I wanted to post this weekend wrap-up a little sooner but after back-to-back all day meetings at work, I was too drained both mentally and physically.  Better late than never, I suppose!  

This past weekend consisted of two days that were polar opposites in terms of weather.  Saturday was gorgeous, sunny, warm and all around perfect.  Sunday was gloomy, rainy, cold and all around miserable.  With two runs planned, I knew that I couldn’t escape the bad weather completely.  Thus, I decided to do my shorter, 8 mile run on Saturday and save the 16 mile long run for the following morning.  Although I felt sluggish on Saturday’s run, the conditions could not be beat.  It was so nice to be out there in short sleeves soaking it all in.  At the end of the route, I was tempted to keep going and do my long run but I didn’t.  The only explanation for my seemingly crazy rationale was that I knew my running club was doing its annual run on the Boston Marathon course on Sunday.  I really didn’t want to miss it.  Plus, it’s always nicer to have company on those long, long training runs.

The day dawned as dismal as predicted.  Weather.com refused to give me even a speck of hope, claiming 100% chance of precipitation.  (Really?  Not even 98%, weatherman??  Come on!)  With that in mind, I dragged myself out into the elements in my most rain repellant gear and lots of dry clothes for later.

After arriving in Hopkinton, about 20 or so club runners poured out of our vehicles, posed for a picture for the Hopkinton News, and set off into the rain.  With only 16 miles ahead of me, I was doing the shortest route.  All others were braving the elements for an awe-inspiring 22 miles.  The early stages of the run were not so bad.  There was a slight drizzle but nothing to get too down about.  Of course, as soon as I commented on this, I was made to regret my words.  As we forged onward, the rain picked up.  Each mile seemed a little worse than the one before.  Thanks to some amazing volunteers, we had travelling water stops every 3 miles.  As we arrived at the first 1-2 stops, I felt pretty good.  I was able to pour myself some Gatorade and open my packages of Gu.  By the time I reached the latter stops, my fingers had stopped working and I needed help to do all of the above.  It got harder and harder to depart from those stops and keep on going.  Unfortunately, there was nothing that any of us could do except move forward, heads bowed and try as best we could to avoid the puddles.

The one bright spot in a not so bright day was the sense of camaraderie on the course.  It was pretty cool to be out there with so many other runners, all with a common purpose.  We struck up random conversations along the route as we came upon other runners.  While we would likely never see each other again, we were united in the moment.

Despite the weather, we all made it through the run and the miles passed more quickly than I would have thought.  As I reached water stop 5, which was also the 16 mile mark, I was elated to be done.  Barry was manning the water station, which just happened to be parked directly in front of a Starbucks.  I cried out with joy and thanked Barry for parking near heaven.  My change of clothes (now slightly damp from being stowed in the open trunk) were a welcome sight as well.  I dragged myself into the Starbucks bathroom to change, only to find that my hands were too frozen to remove my clothes.  Somehow I managed but putting my change of clothes back on was worse.  Hooking my bra was like trying to thread a needle while wearing mittens.  Finally, finally, I got myself together (or at least clothed enough to leave the bathroom) and threw myself into the warm car, happy but completely exhausted.

All told, I got in 16.29 miles in 2 hours and 31 minutes.  Not a bad effort for such a crappy day.  I certainly hope that I don’t have to run the marathon in those conditions but at least I have some practice.  It’s good to know that if that’s what mother nature brings to the table, I’ll be able to get myself through it.