Runner Under Pressure

I moved my blog to Wordpress. Come check me out at http://runnerunderpressure.wordpress.com/ or runnerunderpressure.com.

~S

I Signed Up for What?

While it may seem that everyone from Oprah to Flea from the Red Hot Chili Peppers has done a marathon, it's still a formidable check on bucket list. It takes a huge amount of courage to sign up for the marathon, but after you shell out the money and take the plunge, there's a moment of "oh shit, what did I just commit to?!"

Well never fear: If you are running a spring marathon, be it Vermont City Marathon or another spring classic, start tuning into the Run Down, where I'll be guest blogging through the fall, winter and spring about all sorts of issues related to the marathon from picking a training plan and a running shoe, to surviving the winter doldrums. I'll still be blogging here as well, including lots of entries on my own path from here to VCM 2012.

As John "the Penguin" Bingham says, "The miracle isn't that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start." Signing up is the start of an incredible experience. Like most things worth doing, the marathon has its ups and downs, but I don't know many people who have completed one who wished they hadn't. So be courageous. Sign up to run a spring marathon, then tune in here and on the RunDown for everything you'll need from start to finish.

My Life is Complete

I was totally that badass kid who wore Tuesday underwear on Friday. As an adult, I'm still breaking rules and have to relearn at least once every couple of months that my turquoise thong is the WORST running underwear ever. When I heard about these on Runner's World, I knew my troubles were over. Who's getting me these for Christmas?!

http://www.oiselle.com/shop/rundies

Cheap Thrill

Find yourself in better shape than you thought? Want a reason to go to Vegas and don't feel like shelling out the $160 for Rock and Roll in December? Here's quite the deal for you:

http://www.reallybigfreemarathon.com/

Interesting concept where sponsors picked up the registration costs. If you end up running this race, let me know how it goes. It will either be seamless or a complete catastrophe. Hope a porto-potty company gave some in-kind donations. 

The Decision 2011

While I'm no King James, I've been wrestling with what my next target race should be. I have a little less than 2 years before medical school, during which time I would really like to get my Trials standard. I'm operating under the assumption that for at least the first two years of medical school, the only running I'll be doing is between the library and my bed. 

I want a course that is tough enough to benefit my tough-it-out style. I want a course with great crowd support. I want a race morning that is easy and predictable. I want to know every uphill, downhill and flat between mile 1 and 26. In short, I want to control every variable except for the weather. I loved City of Oaks with its quad busting hills, but hated running alone for 8 miles. I hated pretty much everything about Vegas. Boston was a brutal course with unbelievable support. So what's a girl to do when she wants to make big strides (well, little ones if you've ever seen me run) towards a Trials standard?

Man, this is very tough. My heart will always be around Vermont. This Spring, I'll be taking my talents to the Vermont City Marathon on May 27th, 2012.

Want to join me on an epic weekend in Burlington? Registration opens tomorrow.

Why I'll Always Be a Runner

Because yesterday, I watched my team kick butt at the Essex Invitational and was as nervous and excited as if I were running myself.

Because last night, I was at my wits end and grabbed my running shoes and headed out for an hour. In that hour, I felt like I was flying. I don't know if it was the cooler temperatures, the need to blow off steam or overly rested legs, but it was the best run I've had in ages.

Because in the midst of some of the craziest days of my life, lacing up my running shoes is something I can do and instantly regain control over the chaos.

Where I Am

I really meant to get back on a posting schedule, I did. But then Irene hit and I decided to launch the website http://vtresponse.com to help people get back on their feet. We've had 101,995 in three days, so I've been busier than I meant to be. I'm running for sanity now and excited for our first cross country meet on Saturday, but probably won't post here until the response to Irene in Vermont is wrapped up. 


Run On.
S

Baby, we were born to run

I'm fresh back from Derby House, our pre-season training camp. What a blast we had! Despite the fact that I got almost no sleep, it was an amazing week in the Northeast Kingdom. It's rare that I have the opportunity to focus solely on running, so it was a great training week for me. The other benefit, of course, was time to bond with my team. I left camp feeling lucky to have such a talented and hardworking group of girls. It helps that they are also a blast to be around. Seems cross country girls don't change much through the years...

Cross country played an enormous role in my coming of age. Like most sports teams, we spent a lot of time together. With daily practice, twice weekly meets, and team dinners, we spent almost all of our free time together. It made sense, then, that we were also each other's closest friends. As often happens with cross country, we also spent Winter doing nordic skiing and Spring doing track. We went to Crystal Ball and Prom with the boys team. When we got bored of them, we took boys from Harwood's XC team. It should be no surprise, then, that on one night of Derby House, we had to have our "crush party" to note who our crushes were for the coming season. Turns out, coaches are not exempt from sharing that information. I think the girls were disappointed, but they'll live...

I left camp so excited for the fall. Even though my own racing will be mostly on hold, I get to spend my afternoons, Friday evenings and Saturdays with a great group of runners who make me laugh, challenge me and remind me how I started running in the first place.

Day 1, the last morning I would be well rested

Did you run cross country or track in high school? What were your favorite memories? Funny stories?

Run On.
S

How do I pick a running shoe and other pressing questions

For being about the simplest activity you can do, starting or restarting a running routine can be overwhelming. Do you need a minimal shoe? Or perhaps a Vibram Five Finger. Why are the laces offset on Asics? Do I need wicking shirts, seams that don't chafe and socks with padding? Not to mention, you haven't run in months and you're not sure how to begin again. In a matter of minutes, the couch starts looking better and better.

Fear not, novice and partially retired runners, Caitlin from Wore Out Vermont and I are teaming up. We're even roping Joe from SkiRack into starring in a "how-to" video on picking the perfect running shoe. Read our three part series which starts in September and get back on the roads.

Run On.
S

Saucony Fastwich 5 Review

Saucony does it again. While other shoe makers are messing around with laces (Asics), ignoring the trend towards minimalism (Brooks) and generally ignoring the distance runner (New Balance), Saucony is evolving and as they say, being loyal to the sport. 

I don’t ask a lot of a running shoe. I’m light, I’m neutral and I don’t need or want bells and whistles. When I went looking for a new pair this time around, I wanted to try something with just a little more support than the Kinvara. I still Kinvara’s a couple days a week, but the fit isn’t perfect at the toe box. Joe at SkiRack suggested I try the Fastwitch, which still has a minimal drop, but a little more support in the post. As usual, Joe was right. I’m now infatuated with the Fastwitch and going back to get a second pair for my rotation. 

What’s to like? First, the Fastwitch is nimble at 7.1 ounces, making it light enough for up tempo work, but has enough support thanks to some reinforcement in the post to help out when you’re tired, making it perfect for longer runs. The fabric is almost as breathable as the Kinvara, a necessity in the summer when feet sweat like crazy. For me, the toebox is roomy enough to be comfortable without slamming my feet around (which was happening a lot in the Kinvara, ergo my missing big toenail). Saucony even plays into the text message generation with cute messages on the heel. 

 Downsides? Eh, the colors. While Saucony has been playing around with fit and streamlining (the entire fall line will not have a drop from heel to toe of greater than 12mm), they’ve sort of slacked off in the colors department. The women’s version comes in a scary bright white (which I’ve already dirtied down to a more reasonable shade) and a bright turquoise. Finally, they run small. I normally take a 7 in running shoes and ended up in an 8 in the Fastwitch. It’s a little big on my right foot as a result, but my left foot is happy and we want my left foot happy at all costs. 

Surfacing

Grades are posted. I’ve had 5 good nights of sleep. I went grocery shopping and got in a few runs longer than the 30 minutes I've been living on. All in all, I’m starting to feel like a human again. It’s not an experience I’d like to repeat, but Organic Chemistry is successfully completed.

In other news, it’s been a big summer for me as a runner! I got a shiny new 5K PR at Clarence DeMar on a hot, humid morning.  I survived the Stowe 8 Miler both as a runner and as the incoming Team Racing Coordinator for GMAA. I was hired as the Assistant Cross Country Coach at Mount Mansfield Union High School, an opportunity about which I am extremely excited. And here you thought that I was just in the library…

One major downside of my summer is that my mileage was stuck around 35 miles a week. While I’m grateful to have fit that in, I’m heading into August with a lot of base building to do. As a result, I don’t think I’ll be racing a fall marathon, but will instead focus on getting into shape with Vermont City Marathon as my next big goal race. The upside is that it’s August, and I’m not injured. As many of us can attest, sometimes being uninjured is an enormous accomplishment.

So what else is new from the past 8 weeks? Anyone have a PR to brag about? A funny running story? Race plans firmed up for the fall?

So happy to be back.

S

Ouch!

With love and gratitude to everyone who's helped me survive the last 7.5 weeks...See you Friday.

Just Gotta Get Through This

Sometimes people mention things in passing that come back to you later in unexpected ways. Jess mentioned this song as part of a story about surviving a rough time and recently, I find myself playing it on repeat. Organic Chemistry over the summer is a lot like a marathon. You know (or are pretty confident) that it won't kill you, but that doesn't mean it won't be a gruesome, gutting experience.

In my first marathon, miles 22 and 23 weren't pretty. In my second, miles 10 through 26 were a wreck. This course is somewhere in the middle. The first semester was busy, but I came out of it relatively unscathed. I think the words "Organic Chemistry SO isn't that bad" even escaped my lips. I said a similar thing after my first marathon. Much like Mile 10 of my second marathon, I'm thinking I spoke too soon.

This week is a lot like that point in a race where you ask yourself why the f*&$ you race. Why can't you just be casual? Why can't you just head out and jog like everyone else? The answer lies, of course, in the feelings that the casual runner misses. They miss the moment when you know you're going to finish.They miss out on the moment when you know you are going to PR, the moment when you know you're going to get through it.

I have lots of race reports to write up (including a shiny new 5K PR), but they'll have to wait til August.

Run On.

S

It Pays to Run

One benefit of the summer race season is the ability to race both days of the weekend, almost all summer long. In addition to myriad opportunities to check your fitness, there is always the possibility you'll win a prize. While I've won plenty of prizes in my life, this past weekend, I won the best.prize.ever. The best part was that it was in no way related to my performance. Yes, on Sunday at the Paul Mailman 10 Miler, I won a chicken in the raffle.

Now to clarify, this chicken was already dead. A surprising number of people have responded, "A live chicken!?" as though that makes more sense than a free range, local chicken frozen and donated by the race director. Although a frozen broiler is less exciting than a live chicken, it is an excellent prize nonetheless. This is a huge bird and although I probably won't roast it until the fall (perhaps at the "Booty Dinner" Jess and I thought up on our run yesterday), I'm sure it will be as exciting then as it was on Sunday.

The other benefit of the chicken was the hilarity that ensued on the way home. My ever-supportive teammates were as excited as I was, and we took a group picture with the chicken. Carlie recommended a great cookbook, Roast Chicken and Other Stories: A Recipe Book and we came up with my costume idea for First Run 2012, which will remain a secret until then.

What is your best prize ever, running-related or not?

Happy Summer Racing.
~S

Wordless Wednesday: Looking Forward and Back

More on this soon...

Tempo Tuesdays

I'll admit it. I hate tempo runs. I hate all speed work. I'd run 20 milers every day, if only I didn't have to hit the track and the roads at an uncomfortable clip. But alas, tempo runs (and other speed work) are key to success at almost every race distance. As such, my summer resolution is to restart Tempo Tuesdays again.

I begrudgingly got out of bed this morning, strapped on my heart rate monitor and headed out with the dog for a short tempo. I planned to do a 2 mile warm up, 2 at tempo and 2 mile cool-down. I figured that even I couldn't wriggle my way out of that short of an effort. In fact, I did. Ava is a great running partner, but tempo pace is not fair to her, especially in the summer. Instead, we had to settle for a fartlek workout, and she did a great job, even initiating a few intervals when a squirrel was spotted.

Next Tuesday morning, I'll warm up with Ava, then drop her at home for the hard portion of the run, which will be a sandwich tempo, with 2 miles hard, a 5 minute jog, then 2 more hard miles. The first part of the sandwich is a slightly easier pace, 6:55 to 7:00. The second part is harder, both because I'm tired but also because it's faster at 6:45 to 6:55. These paces seem pedestrian, but after 8 weeks of running slow in preparation for Vermont City, I need to regain some snap. Then I can grab my trusty running partner for the cool down. As the summer goes on, I'll alternate between a regular tempo and sandwich tempo, adding distance slowly towards about 60 minutes of hard effort.

What about you? Do you love or loathe speed work? What workout would you skip if you could?

Run On.
S

P.S. I am always open to company on Tuesday mornings. I like it even more if you talk me into a different workout...

Wordless Wednesday: Pink and Spiky

Perfect for Catamount Tuesdays and the Equinox 10K on Saturday...

Brooks PR MD, with 3/8 " Spikes

How I'm Spending My Summer "Vacation"

I won't be around these parts much until about August.  I'm taking Organic Chemistry this summer and knocking out two semesters in 8 weeks, so my life has been reduced to sleep-study-class-lab-study. I'm still trying to run and aiming to maintain about 40 miles a week, but everything else I enjoy is on hold until August.

I have a few races coming up, including the Stowe 8 Miler in July, so I'll try to post race reports and some training updates as we get closer.  Otherwise, have an excellent first few months of summer and I look forward to getting back into serious training in August.

Run On.
S

Vermont City Marathon Recap

Short Version: We survived the heat, rain and humidity and I crossed the line (still carrying my sign!) at 4:14:37 Chip Time. Great success.


Long Version: It was a grim race morning. From a soaking shower at the start to serious humidity and pollen, few would claim that last Sunday was the day they were hoping for. I tolerate heat well after years of running in Alabama, Mississippi, Texas and North Carolina. Still, I was anxious about my group members, many of whom were doing their first marathon.

Howard and I stood in the middle of Park Street, signs lifted skyward as we gathered our sheep. We had lots of first timers, but a few veterans as well. Once the gun went off, it took us almost two minutes to cross the line. The first mile was very slow and we had to do a lot of weaving. In fact, we were part of a huge group for most of the race (just ask the aid stations we repeatedly overwhelmed). Much to everyone's surprise, I behaved and didn't pull us through any miles too fast.

1: 9:47

2: 9:25

3: 9:37

4: 9:27

5: 9:34

6: 9:40

7: 9:36

8: 9:40

9: 9:38

10: 9:23

As we headed South, I started to check in with people, making sure that they were still feeling comfortable, that they were paying attention to their hydration and fueling needs. This was the first time that the face of the group shifted considerably. We were still a big group, but we'd dropped quite a few and picked up an equal number through the South Cove neighborhood. As we worked North towards Battery, it was time for tough love. I reminded them that it was one hill, that we had plenty of time left after the hill and that if all else failed, we were only 10 miles from beer (which, sadly, would be shut down when we got there. More on that later.)

11: 9:50

12: 9:10 **Pee break for me, had to catch up.

13: 9:35

14: 9:36

15: 9:40

Once we topped Battery, the sun decided to come out from behind the clouds and we all started to suffer. I started to slow down through aid stations to make sure that people were drinking and assessed my own hydration level. I felt good, but not great. Howard, however, was sheet white and I was starting to get anxious about him and a few others in our group. Working north, we encouraged everyone to take advantage of any and every sprinkler stop. The neighborhoods in these miles provided incredible support in the form of water, food, and sprinklers. Around Leddy, Howard let me know that he was going to stop because of the heat. This was an excellent message for some of the runners in the group, who were pushing too hard and needed to know that it was a day to listen to your body, not your goals. We rolled on through Leddy, across some muddy boards and up towards the final turn towards home. A friend of mine was running and joined up with us for a few miles as an unofficial pacer (Thanks Hillary!). She's run VCM a number of times and is a Girls on the Run coach, so her energy was hugely welcome.

16: 9:44

17: 9:35

18: 9:36

19: 9:36

20: 9:34

Watching other people hit the wall was intensely emotional. I didn't know whether it was more helpful to be silent and let them work through it, to address it honestly or to try to distract. I chose a combination of the three. I pointed out milestones. I told them everyone was feeling the same way and that they were doing an amazing job. I talked about my own experience with the wall in Vegas, when I was convinced I was going to wither in the Las Vegas desert. We all breathed a sigh of relief, however, when we turned onto the bike path. It was cooler and shaded, a welcome break from the sun beating down on us. We also picked Howard back up around 22, an enormous mental boost for me. My feet had started to scream and I was struggling to stay upbeat. Together, we rolled home. The most devastating moment was at 25, when we found out that the beer table (which I had been promising for 25 miles, thankssomuch Officer Buzzkill) had been ticketed and shut down. As we recovered from that blow and passed by the skate park, I sent my group ahead to finish their marathons.

21: 9:31

22: 9:36

23: 9:39

24: 9:47

25: 9:44

26: 9:47

.2 (or .42): 4:01

Over the last 6 miles, we passed 196 people. 5 people passed us. I carried a sign for 26 miles. I only dropped it once. All in all, it was an amazing experience. I don't know if I'll pace next year as I have thoughts of making VCM my next big goal race. However, for anyone looking for an entirely different kind of challenge that doesn't require you to run 100 miles or jump over obstacles, pacing comes highly recommended from me.

Run On.

S

Wordless Wednesday: The 2011 Pace Team

Showcase Showdown

I usually leave my relationship musings on my Tumblr account, but since this one ties into running, it's landing here.

A friend and I were discussing relationships the other day and the inevitable compromises, when he quipped, "It's sort of like choosing the Showcase Showdown at the end of the Price is Right."  While I balked at first to any comparison drawn between Bob Barker and a relationship, I think he might be right. For those unfamiliar, the contestant must consider the showcase offered, and either bid or pass. If you bid, you are stuck with that showcase, no matter how fabulous the second one turns out to be. If you pass, you're stuck with the second showcase (assuming the other person doesn't do a better job of bidding...)

What's the benefit of choosing a showcase err significant other who runs? For non-runners, running often seems like a punishment and answering the first date question of "What do you like to do for fun?" with "running" or  "marathons" can be deadly. Assuming you make it past the first date, your new flame is likely to discover that you spend a lot of time running, that your toenails are really messed up and that you will never, ever sleep in on Sunday. Add to that the fact that you talk about running incessantly, are miserable during taper and have a food budget that almost matches that of your rent and you may not be the catch you think you are.

Dating a runner can be equally treacherous. Beat a guy one time in a race and the dynamic can be forever upset when you discover that he doesn't like being chicked, even by his girlfriend. What was once your individual quiet time becomes couple time and can be crowded with resentment of the intrusion. A boyfriend once ditched me on a run because we had such a big fight about him one-stepping me. And then there was the time I forgot to register us for Boston...

What do you think? Does it matter if your significant other runs? Is it reason enough to choose or pass on a showcase? Funny running-related relationship stories?

And remember, help control the pet population. Have your pets spayed and neutered.

Run On
~S

Almost Famous

As nervous as I am for tomorrow, I was almost as nervous for this article to come out. I've done interviews before, but never a free-flowing, running interview. I wasn't sure what I'd said, if I was coherent or if I said anything offensive. Not to mention, what picture was used. So when I woke up yesterday, I took a deep breath and clicked on the Burlington Free Press and...not too bad.

It's a great picture of Jen and I, with Joe peering over out shoulders. Jen actually has compartment syndrome as well, so it's doubly appropriate to share here. The article is great too; informative, interesting and full of wisdom from people like Jack Pilla and Bob Sullivan. In fact, it's a lot like the group of pacers I have the pleasure of running with tomorrow. Together, we have run hundreds of marathons and ultramarathons, hold course records, are below national standards for our age groups and represent the beauty of running: we hold day jobs, but are superheroes on the weekends.

I'm excited/nervous/proud to be part of the pacing team tomorrow. Huge thanks to Skirack and Mizuno for making it possible.

Running in Style

If you really want to read about style, then Wore Out is the blog to read. But for those curious about who to look for on Sunday morning, here are some pictures of the men's and women's pace uniforms.

See you at the Expo.
~S

What to do on a Tornado Thursday

Vermont is currently under a tornado watch (which, upon Googling watch versus warning for the 30th time, is the better of the two). Once you've secured an interior space with no windows, what's a tapering, anxious runner to do with a couple days to go?

• Watch Spirit of the Marathon (on iTunes, Netflix and Hulu) with your legs up, sipping on some water.
• Start laying out your clothes. Have you worn the shirt on a long run? What socks will you wear?
• Think about Sunday morning. When will you leave your house/hotel? Where will you park? Where are the porto-potties and when is my "final pee?"
• Write a thank you note or two to the people who got you here. No wo/man is an island, especially when training for a marathon.
• Review the course map. VCM will be clearly marked, but it never hurts to know where you're going.
• Read The Run Down, your guide to all things VCM, from how to drink on the move to parking to your eBag of coupons.

What not to do?

• Run longer/harder than you are scheduled to. Yes, I know you feel out of shape or like you need just one more good run. Just don't.
• Eat anything new.
• Give friends/family visiting a walking tour of Burlington.
• Check weather.com 25 times in a day. Nothing we can do about it but prepare.

Eat and sleep well tonight and tomorrow night. See you at the Expo, Friday 4 to 8 and Saturday 9 to 7.

Wordless Wednesday

Hot in Herre

The one thing we can't control on marathon day is the weather, but that doesn't stop us from checking it incessantly from two weeks out. The weather for Sunday looks...grim. Most marathoners would agree that 55 is about as warm as you want it. Even Boston, which topped out at about 65, felt very hot. So what's a runner to do in the heat?

A hotter day means more sweat, upping your hydration requirements. While hydration is a slippery slope (and new runners tend towards over-drinking rather than under-drinking), pay attention to your thirst. Consider drinking more sports drink than you had planned to compensate for additional salt loss. Pay attention to how you feel. Hydration is tricky; if you wait too long, it can be impossible to catch up. What's your plan for drinking?

A sunny day also requires sun protection. Don a hat and sunglasses and make sure to wear sunscreen, which will keep you cooler over the duration of the race. If you are a profuse sweater, skip sunscreen on your forehead. The hat should protect you and you won't spend 3+ hours trying to keep sweat out of your eyes.

An unexpectedly hot day (like 75 in May, when we've been cool and rainy for weeks) requires an honest re-assessment of goals. Heat affects most runners profoundly and we should adjust our goals down if the day is hot. If we wake up on Sunday to heat and humidity, how will you adjust your goals?

Finally, showers add a bit of excitement to the whole picture. Damp conditions necessitate a full assault on chafing. If you think it might chafe, body glide it. Then Body Glide it again. I often put Aquaphor on my feet, especially between my toes. This gives a little more water-repellent action and keeps me blister free. Places you might not think about? The neck of your tee shirt or tank and the backside of your shirt where safety pins rub.

While we can't control the weather (so stop hitting refresh on your browser), we can adjust our plans to make it the most comfortable run possible.

See you Sunday...

No pressure, but...

I am typically anxious about races, although I've been getting better at handling my nerves during the past year. My anxiety about Vermont City, however, is of a totally different type. Normally, if I blow a race, no one cares but me. Next Sunday, however, a group of runners will put their faith in me to get them across the finish line in 4 hours and 15 minutes.

On one hand, I am confident I can handle the pace, which is not always true when I toe the line of a race. I know I can finish; I did Boston 6 weeks ago, a 20 miler that took longer on my feet than the race will and an 18 at Sunday's 9:35 pace. While I may be nervous about pacing, I won't have the nerves and adrenaline coursing through my veins causing me to turn in a sub 6:30 first mile (true story, did it in Vegas.)

On the other hand, 9:35 is a comfortable, but slow pace for me. I'm worried that I'll be antsy and go too fast. I'm worried that over four hours on my feet will wreak havoc on my normal nutrition approach or that I'll get a blister or chafe. I'm worried that on Church Street, I'll get drawn along with the crowds. I'm worried that I'll miscalculate and bring us in at 4:16. Or 4:13. I'm worried about the weather; 73 and drizzly is gruesome running weather. In short, I'm experiencing anxiety about this race much like most of my group probably is.

I'm hopeful that the weather will be okay and that if it's going to be 73, it does drizzle to keep us comfortable. I'm hopeful that after a few miles of high nerves, I'll settle comfortably into 9:35s. I'm hopeful that between Howard and I, we can cover each other during the inevitable tough miles. I'm hopeful my shoulder doesn't kill me while carrying the sign.

Seems like patience and intelligent running is my theme this year. I hope that my practice with pacing during Boston and during the 6 weeks after pays dividends next weekend. And that I get ONE race photo where I look happy. Just one. Cannot be too much to ask...

Run On
~S
 

Pace Yourself

I’ve been pretty quiet since Boston. Between trying to regain some footing after a crazy couple of weeks, the end of the semester and post-marathon blues, I haven’t had much to say about running that is appropriate for a blog. Despite the rainy day and a forecast for nine more days of rain, recovery is wrapping up. I’m heading into a very busy race season, with a focus on short, faster races. Before that transition, however, I’m excited to serve as a 4:15 Pacer for the Vermont City Marathon.

Not only do I get to run a beautiful course, I get to engage in the activity I like almost as much as running: talking! I am looking forward to getting to know some new people, to being part of many people’s first marathon and to celebrating a great weekend in Vermont.

Howard, my fellow 4:15-er, and I have been talking a lot about our approach. A 4:15 pace comes out to a 9:45 average pace. However, since Howard and I are slightly imperfect, it is unlikely that we will run a perfectly even race and perfect tangents. Thus, we are planning a 9:35 pace, which allows us a little time for crowds, hills and water stops. We will aim to run almost even splits; banking time is rarely a good idea in a marathon. While you might have a slightly positive split, it’s best to pick a pace you can hold for the entire race and stay there. The hardest places to do this are the beginning, when tapered legs feel amazing and your chosen pace feels like a jog. Resist the urge to go too fast. It will come back to bite you in the last few miles.

Interested in joining a pace group at Vermont City? There’s a whole bunch of us from 3:30 to 5:30. More information available here and at the Expo. We will also be leading two preview runs the day before the marathon, where you have the opportunity to run either the start (great opportunity to practice your patient approach to pacing) or the finish (great mental activity).

Run On.

S

Boston Marathon Race Report

When I was a little girl, my grandmother used to dress me up on Patriot's Day in my marathon outfit and I'd run a course in their backyard south of Boston. As I grew older, the idea of running Boston always percolated, but it wasn't until I started running marathons that I started seriously courting the idea. In her demented state, my grandmother thought every marathon I did was the Boston marathon, so it was nice this past year to be able to say "Yes, Nana, this year I will run Boston."  It is both heartbreaking and fitting that she died on the Thursday before Boston.

Cruising down Boylston

I arrived in Boston exhausted and sad. Thankfully, I was staying with two dear friends who boosted me up. I slept for 12 hours on Saturday night and even slept on Sunday night for about 7 hours. I drank plenty of water and powerade, ate well and stayed off my legs. On Monday morning, I met up with a teammate who convinced me that we didn't need to catch the bus until 6:45. While I'm not sure who was more nervous, having Matt around made for a very smooth race morning. By the time I got into the starting corral, I had 5 minutes to go and was feeling good.

My splits aren't particularly exciting. I went out slowly as planned and stayed steady through the whole race. My one mistake was thinking that I would have any sort of hammer to drop. I felt great throughout the race, but couldn't have picked it up anywhere past 20 without risking a blowup.

Start to 6: Went out slowwwwwwwly. Got in one collision at a water stop and subsequently teamed up with some other people to share cups instead of having to veer off to the left or right.

Mile 1: 7:38

Mile 2: 7:19

Mile 3: 7:20

Mile 4: 7:07

Mile 5: 7:17

Mile 6: 7:08

6 to 16: Spent most of these miles trying to stay patient and telling myself "only ten more miles until you see Mom and Suzy," "only 30 minutes until you see Mom and Suzy."  I will say that I was more than overwhelmed by the Wellesley girls and rolled far left away from their waving arms. I was overjoyed to see my mom and sister at Newton-Wellesley hospital and impressed that they got the whole group around them to also cheer. It was a huge mental boost that carried me into the hills.

Mile 7: 7:01

Mile 8: 7:13

Mile 9: 7:09

Mile 10: 7:12

Mile 11: 7:10

Mile 12: 7:09

Mile 13: 7:09

Mile 14: 7:03

Mile 15: 7:08

Mile 16: 7:01

17 to 21: The Hills!!  I decided early on to approach the hills as an opportunity to run strong, not something to be feared. I am a strong hill runner and actually prefer inclines to flats. I focused on form, using my arms to drive me up the hills. I am happy to report that I think Heartbreak just gets a bad rap...

Mile 17: 7:17

Mile 18: 7:21

Mile 19: 7:24

Mile 20: 7:23

Mile 21: 7:27

21 to finish: Once we were done with Heartbreak (bizarrely announced by a huge inflatable sign), I started to grind towards home. It was about here that I realized a 3:08 wasn't in the cards. I decided instead to try to run smooth and strong to the end. I saw my dad and aunt in Coolidge Corner and my mom and sister again at 25. I struggled with the silence under the Mass Ave bridge, where I had my first opportunity all day to think about the hallowed ground upon which I was running, to remember my Nana and Coop and how proud they would be to watch me finish. Thankfully, that silence doesn't last long. My girlfriends were at the turn onto Hereford and from there, it was time to head home. 

Mile 22: 7:12

Mile 23: 7:19

Mile 24: 7:18

Mile 25: 7:18

Mile 26: 7:12

.2 (slash .4, ooops, not perfect tangents): 2:47 (6:47 pace)

Screw You, Stairs

After my first marathon, I descended the stairs in our house on my butt. I sobbed on the third day when I attempted to drive Will to school and realized I still couldn't move my leg from the brake to the gas. My friends had all run the half marathon, and although they were sore, they weren't incapacitated like me. So as I sat at home and cried that Tuesday, I started googling post-marathon pain to make sure I wasn't alone. Turns out, this crab-walk/hobble/wince wasn't unique. When I came across the video below, however, I cried until I laughed until I cried again.

Today isn't nearly as bad as 2007, but going down stairs still isn't pretty. I'm by no means reduced to my butt, although it's crossed my mind. Downhill is a similar struggle. Coming home from work tonight, I was gingerly making my way down St. Paul Street, when I saw a woman hobble out of her car. In a Boston jacket. Her husband looked on bemused, then noticed me. She and I exclaimed simultaneously, "I'm so sore!" Perfect strangers, united in misery. I love the marathon.

Hurts So Good

Home Sweet Home (and sore)

I promise a full race report by the end of the week, but I'm back in Vermont after a Boston Marathon-Funeral double header, so I'm looking forward to a good night's sleep in my own bed. It will be hard to go back to work tomorrow after more than a week off, but I'm excited to get back into a regular schedule.

Boston was a great experience. While the race wasn't quite as fast as I'd wanted (dreamed?), I ran a very smart, evenly paced race. My second half was only 30 seconds slower than my first, a feat on a course featuring a much harder second half. I was actually smiling throughout the race and save for horrible cramps after the finish, felt pretty good.

I paddled around the pool and hot tub last night and did a light bike workout this morning. That said, I'm still very sore. Stairs, ramps and chairs are not my friends. I'm looking forward to getting back to some light running by the end of the week, but am otherwise going to take the week to recover and reflect.

Thank You

The marathon is an unforgiving mistress. It takes everything you'll give, and like most mistresses, it takes something from those around you too. I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge the group of people who got me to the starting line this morning. (And yes, I wrote this last week, I'm not that motivated or clear-headed on marathon day. That said, if I left you out, sorry. I really tried...)

Thank you to...
-The GMAA Sunday running group, for getting me out of bed all winter long
-Jason, Matt and the rest of the Dee PT team for putting me back together again, repeatedly
-My co-workers, for not teasing me for eating all the time, for forgiving Monday morning exhaustion and for trying to understand why someone would run 26 miles in a row
-My Phour, I won't even try to quantify
-Dr. Jimmy Slauterbeck, Dr. Ryan Duffy and the OSC at Fletcher Allen for pretty scars and a lot less pressure
-The Dailies crew, for keeping me honest, motivated and in awe 365 days a year
-Meredith and Lindsay, because there's a distinct chance that at some point today, my only motivation will be the after-party.

It's been said that the halfway point in a marathon is at mile 20. Miles 20 through 26 supercede training and preparation and most of the time, require pure guts. In my first marathon, I dedicated miles 20 through 26 to people in my life, wrote their names on my pace band and thought of them through some incredibly challenging miles. It worked, and I'm doing it again for Boston for people without whom this would not be happening.

Mile 20: Will Moss. For reminding me who I am and for getting me into this in the first place.
Mile 21: Mom, Dad, Suzanne and Stacey. When the going gets tough, I always have you and there is no amount of thanks I can give for that.
Mile 22: Will Manning. For being the place to vent with someone understands the stakes.You'll be back soon.
Mile 23: Matty. For biking with me in the pitch black, for never questioning why Sunday had to be dedicated to 3 hours of running, followed by ice baths and naps, for your continued effort at understanding why someone would choose to run.
Mile 24: Grampa Coop and Nana. I've been dressing up for Marathon Monday since I was a little girl. I wish you were here to see me finally run Boston, but something tells me you'll both be around. I'll do you proud.
Mile 25: Erin. Good running partners are hard to find. Great running partners are even harder to find. I hope you have a great race today. We deserve this.
.2: For me, because a year ago, I wasn't sure I'd be able to run here.

See you in 3 and change...

~S

Pertinent Information

Want to track me at Boston?  Bib 6803, Wave 1, Corral 7.

The plan, as detailed ad nauseum in an earlier post, is to go out patiently to 16, then start grinding through the hills.

Patience and Grit (aka the Plan)

I debated about sharing my running notebook where all of these plans are sketched down, starred, circled and highlighted. As my calendar post perhaps belied, I am someone who requires a plan to function. However, since this week is anything but normal and I still don't know my travel plans to Boston, I'm going to keep my journal to myself. I will, however, share my plan.

After reviewing my training log (4 times), the Boston course (at least 10 times) and using some of the various calculators available, I think I'm going to aim for a 3:08, plus or minus a couple of minutes. Although this is a 7:10 pace, this certainly isn't an even pace course. Go out too hard, and you'll understand first hand what a meat grinder feels like. Go out too easy, well, I'm not sure that's really a possibility.

My personal plan, in a nutshell, is to go out easy through 16, then grind it in. I'm a strong hill runner and my first marathon was very similar in profile to Boston (http://cityofoaksmarathon.com/course_info/), although without the constant hammering downhill of the first 6 of Boston. I remember this race much more fondly than the pancake flat Las Vegas, where I honestly thought another step at mile 21 was an impossibility.

I assume that my first mile will be slow due to a crowded start. Should this not happen, I am still prepared and planning to run no faster than a 7:20 mile for Miles 1 and 2. Through 6, I am going to be chanting patience in my head (and possibly writing it on my arm). This excludes mile 3, where a steep downhill may naturally pull me a little under. Then the plan is to cruise through to 16, somewhere around 7:05, plus or minus a second. 16 is where I swap mantras for grit. Climbing hills takes more time per mile, and I'm not expecting a negative split on this course, so I think a 7:19 is reasonable through the Hills. From mile 21 in, I want to focus on running strong, with the best form I can manage. If the going gets tough, I'm doing like Kara Goucher and counting to 100 over and over again.

16 miles is a manageable bite for me at this point. It's probably one of my favorite long run distances; long enough to feel like a workout, not long enough to hurt. If I can get through 16 with patience and legs that feel good, then I'm ready to fight like hell for the next 10.

Splits? (Again, pretty flexible, at least on the slower side. I am going to work very hard not to turn in anything under 7 minutes)
Through the half no faster than 1:34:30
16 around 1:54
20 around 2:30.

Getting Warmer

On Monday, the high was expected to be 52. This is the forecast this morning:

50 I can handle. 60 is getting pretty warm, especially if it's sunny. At least the showers will be out of the way. Hopefully all the rain today won't flood the falls in Newton.

Weather is one of the things over which we have zero control in a marathon. We can only react and hope that our reaction makes us as comfortable as possible. I am starting the packing process and have no less than 2 duffels of running related gear (and one small duffel for other clothes). I have everything for a race at 20 degrees with wind to a race at 70 in the rain, plus every combination in between. I still have to get to the Dollar Store to pick up some throwaways, should I need them after I drop my bag.

So despite us having no control over the weather, everyone please cross your fingers that the temperature doesn't get much warmer...

It's Alllllllllllive

I'm mad. Taper mad, that is. Everything hurts, from my left calf to my right ankle and right hip. Did I mention the toe that feels like it's broken or the black toenail. My quads feel tight, my shoulder is sore and I'm pretty sure I've gained ten pounds in the last week and my shorts won't fit. I'm glaring at people out running, obsessing over the course and my mantra, memorizing paces that I'll write on my arm and trying to avoid germs, despite working in a hospital.

You can't make a training cycle during taper, but you can certainly wreck one. It's difficult to resist the urge to do one more long run, one more hard workout. It's hard to remember to stay hydrated, eat well and sleep well when the cornerstone of your routine is missing. The angel on my right shoulder soothes: "Trust the taper, let your body heal and prepare," while the devil on my left snarks: "Do one more medium run, go try race pace, stop eating." And there are still 6 days to go.

Hold on to your hats.

S

One Week to Go

First panicky weather check officially completed: low of 40, high of 55 and sunny.

Next week at this time, I'll be milling around Athlete's Village, anxiously awaiting my 10 am start.

A Year Ago

Hard to believe a year has gone by since surgery. I woke up this morning and went to PT and had a blog entry all sketched out in my head about this anniversary. Then, I got a call that my grandmother had a massive stroke and my whole day shifted. Like most hard days, I ended up running tonight when I got back into town. Running is what I do when I'm sad, when I'm stressed and when I'm happy, and I'm grateful that my return to running started a year ago today.

Before: Scar Free

After: To be posted soon.

What a strange trip it's been from there to here...

Spring has Sprung

"The first day of spring is one thing, and the first spring day is another. The difference between them is sometimes as great as a month." Henry Van Dyke


It has been a long effing winter. Today, however, as we ran along the bike path, it felt like we'd made it, like we've survived another long, painful winter. The sun was shining, we were in an assortment of shorts and capris and even a strong headwind didn't feel too bad. For Erin and I, this is the end of the road before Boston. The 16 today will be the longest we go until 2 weeks from tomorrow. Our job until then includes resting, sleeping and eating. Cruel that the weather should turn just in time for us to taper, but that's Vermont.


I am not a particularly hopeful person, but this is my favorite season to be a runner. Fall is great, but always has foreboding undertones, as though my legs know that winter and cold isn't far behind. Spring breezes are warm and everything just seems new. In some ways, I'm glad to have my target race fall in early spring so that I can enjoy the end of April and May without a rigid training schedule. Boston meant that we trained through some of the worst weather Vermont sees, but gives us May off to play, heal and get ready for summer.

Run On.

~S

Comfortably Numb

When you live with compartment syndrome, there is no such thing as comfortably numb. Any decreased sensation is a cause for panic. A full feeling in a calf can cause a full meltdown. As such, I have to admit that I haven’t been totally honest about my leg over the past 6 weeks. Part of me felt like I was being hyper-sensitive. The other part felt that if I didn’t admit it publicly, it wasn’t really happening.

About 6 weeks ago, things started to feel off. I wasn’t rolling through my big toe, I had discomfort up near the fibular head and my calf just hurt. No amount of stretching, icing or changing my stride seemed to relieve the pain. On a couple of runs, I lost sensation in my 3rd, 4th and 5th toes. My foot didn’t commence its aggressive ground slapping and doesn’t feel completely like wood, but I got myself to PT in short order.  None of their findings are surprising: I baby my left side, which causes my right side to compensate and explains the perpetually sore hip. My hips are weak in general. My left calf is slightly larger than my right. When you massage my left calf, the tissue turns a freaky shade of no-blood-flow white for a while.

We agreed on an action plan, and I’ve been a good patient. My priority was continuing my long runs; can’t survive Boston without them. I ceded my track workouts and settled for a few faster paced runs. I agreed to bike more and take rest days. But I refused to stop running altogether. My surgery anniversary is next week and although I’ve come an enormous way, it would be crushing to have to stop running for my one year anniversary. Not to mention, I was already reticent to taper from a non-existing training cycle.

Next week, Matt, Jason and I are going to do some long range planning. While the input of coaches and training partners is a valuable piece of the puzzle, Jason and Matt offer a unique perspective that I think is key to me moving to the next level. They know my weak spots. They know the areas they’ve had to massage, laser and stim repeatedly to keep me going. Both are endurance athletes and understand (although they don’t necessarily agree) that I am not going to stop running. As I said to Jason yesterday, I want to figure out what I have to do to fix some of the physical flaws that keep landing me back in PT. That requires about 5% effort from them and 95% effort from me to commit to the strength training, cross training and flexibility work that I know is imperative, yet still skip.

I’m excited to see what we come up with for a plan. I’m starting to look beyond Boston (after all, the hay really is in the barn now) and think about my goals for the next year. There is not a chance I qualify for the Trials this year, which gives me a couple more years of base building and racing experience. I’m looking forward to racing with GMAA and to the Catamount Tuesday Race Series to work on speed and cut down my pre-race nerves. Most of all, I’m looking forward to 8 months without the requisite 20 extra minutes to get on snow clothes.

What are your goals for this season? How are you going to avoid your normal pitfalls?

Wordless Wednesday: Ava Bean

Need a fool proof method to get out of bed and run every morning?  Get one of these.

The Final Approach

Ladies and Gentleman, as we prepare for our final approach into Boston's Logan Airport, please ensure that your tray tables and seat backs are in their upright and locked position. The flight attendants will be coming through the cabin to collect any unwanted items.

The descent into Logan is one of the most harrowing on the East Coast. During the preliminary descent, you drop to an altitude at which you can only see ocean. When you begin the final bank left, it appears as though you are going to land in the Atlantic. It's only at the last minute that you see the runway and exhale. My approach to Boston has been similar. For the past few weeks, I've been convinced that I'm going to land in the ocean, but I think I can see the runway now.

This training cycle has been turbulent, from a serious winter that has yet to relinquish its grasp to a schedule that even I have to admit is a little over-loaded. Much like the days after a harrowing flight, I am vowing not to repeat a training cycle like this.

My last 20 is done. I will do another 16 on Sunday, a couple more moderate distance runs and one or two faster paced workouts. My job now is to rest, recover and prepare for April 18th. I hate taper. I am a miserable person when I'm not running, so to those who see me regularly, please accept my advance apologies. (WM, it's my two weeks to be snarky.)

Anyone have an air-sickness bag?

~S

New Bedford Half Marathon Race Report

I arrived at the starting line of New Bedford with few expectations. After a rough winter on bad surfaces and numbness returning to my calf and foot, the only thing I knew was that I would finish and that at the least, I was working towards my resolution to race more.  My goal was to run even splits, start at a pace I could finish at and dig deep.

This was the first race in a long time where I didn't find myself nauseated on the start line. Normally, I'm almost paralyzed with nerves. I don't know if it was the lack of a particular goal, the safety of not being fully tapered or the fact that I hadn't had to deal with race day details beyond getting to the start line, but I was calm and collected. Besides a minor altercation with a runner way in front of where she should have started and her lack of appreciation for my elbow in her back, the start was smooth. I let everyone else barrel out and just ran a relaxed opening mile in 6:46 with Matt. We chatted through 3, clicking off a 6:52 and 6:45 for Miles 2 and 3. Matt was aiming for a 1:25, so we split around 3. I felt good, although my calf had the all too familiar full feeling.

After topping the hill at 4, it was a downhill cruise for a few miles and I just focused on smooth, strong strides. Paces were 6:53, 6:28, 6:33, 6:21and 6:31 for Miles 4, 5, 6, 7 and 8 respectively. I had a minor meltdown at 9, an incident perhaps predicted by Norm, who warned me to stay focused during the mile. My quads were shot from the downhill section and my stomach was upset from the Gu I'd taken during 8. I decided that the finish was as close as anything and got over it, turning in a 6:43 for 9. From there, I alternated between celebrating the finish and dreading the hill at 12.

A surprise wind around 11 was unpleasant, chilling the cup of water I inadvertently dumped on my singlet. Miles 10, 11 and 12 were 6:38, 6:39 and 6:39, which took considerable effort despite what those splits suggest. Then came the hill. Although we had run it during the warm up, and although I tend to be strong on hills, I was no happy camper while trucking up the hill. There were a few women around who were in the open class that I needed to pass, but my normal ponytail drive was focused almost entirely on just surviving the hill without stepping in a pothole. Mile 13 was a 6:52. Despite wanting to drop it for the finish, I settled for forward motion and turned in the last .2 (guess I wasn't running tangents...) in a 6:00 pace. My gun time was 1:28, chip time of 1:27:51.

After 30 seconds of feeling like shit (and looking like it, apparently, as the race volunteer wouldn't let me go), my all systems check suggested that things were fine, and I headed to the fence to cheer and cool-down. My post-race routine was not optimal;  the food included clam chowder or fish sandwiches, neither of which I eat out of fear of accidentally consuming seafood. Instead, I ate pretzels and drank beer. A lot of beer. I paid for it Monday through Thursday, when stairs were not my friend. Just clicked off an 18, though, so I don't think the beer permanently harmed me.

All in all, it was a good confidence builder. I went out slowly, ran a smart strategic race and didn't have much left, as the picture below demonstrates. Don't mess with me in a dark alley...

Courtesy of Justin Ryea

Through the Mists of 200 Years

On Saturday morning, I had a conversation with my dad that went beyond our usual Prairie Home Companion repertoire of "Yup." "Okay." "Glad you're well." As it often goes with Dad, I learned about some significant memory from his childhood that he'd never revealed before. In this particular call, he told me that he had memories from New Bedford, of sending his dad to sea and of a whaling museum he hoped to visit again. My grandfather was a Merchant Marine who was pretty absent when my dad was young, coming home just long enough to get my grandmother pregnant again and ship out.

As I ran through the course today, I tried to stay focused. I heard Norm, telling me to be focused at mile 9, to drop it at 12. I heard echos of my high school coach on the hill. More than usual, however, I heard my Dad, drawing me forward at 9 when I had a meltdown, felt his quiet support as I PRd. Like many daughters, the approval of my dad is a special thing. I will never forget his disappointment when I dropped out of a race in junior high. Some 15 years ago, and I still remember the message from our walk the next day: "You never, never give up, never quit, no matter how much it hurts." I will never forget when he watched me win my first race as an adult, with his fist pump to the air and explanation to the person next to him that that was HIS daughter.

My dad would be proud of my race today. I ran smart, I ran hard. I'm proud of my race today. I stayed (mostly) focused. I ran even splits. I may limp through my recovery run tomorrow (and I will write a full race report tomorrow or Tuesday), but I head into the last two weeks before taper with significantly more confidence than before.

From I am the American Sailor

I am the spirit of heroes past and future. I am the American Sailor. I was born upon the icy shores at Plymouth, rocked upon the waves of the Atlantic, and nursed in the wilderness of Virginia. I cut my teeth on New England codfish, and I was clothed in southern cotton. I built muscle at the halyards of New Bedford whalers, and I gained my sea legs high atop the mizzens of Yankee clipper ships.

Confession

Running movies and clips make me cry. Inconsolably. So does watching the finish of almost any race. This is somewhat surprising, as I am not a crier in any other situation. But show me someone working towards the finish of a race, be it a 4 minute mile or a 4 hour marathon and the waterworks start. With that in mind, I am sharing an article and clip that made me cry like crazy.

I grew up with Taylor. He and his brother Xander are the closest that I have to brothers. Taylor's parents both run and in fact, are probably part of the reason I went with running in junior high. Clearly Tayz and I found different ends of the running spectrum; he's an unbelievable 400 runner (those quads!) and I throw up at the thought of a 400, even one 20 to 30 seconds slower than what T runs.

Taylor was part of the DMR team that won Nationals last weekend and my sister forwarded both a clip and an article about the team. I made it through the article with minimal mistiness. I did not do so well with the YouTube clip. So Taylor, I'm infinitely proud, excited to have someone to talk running with and look forward to sharing the roads for the next 60 years, or until we decide to replace running with power-walking.

Enjoy all. Congrats to the Allegheny team.

Article: http://bit.ly/hUlk7q
You Tube:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ztLKZdKbI6k

The Hay is (almost) in the Barn

It's a rough Monday. Between Daylight Savings and a 21 miler yesterday on a "rolling" course, I am one beat-up, exhausted runner girl. In fact, after this post, I'm going to take another catnap, my third in three days. Nothing says Monster Month like the actual need for a nap and vague sensation of hunger at all times.

Yesterday was a tough long run, my second to last 20+ miler of this cycle. When I walked into the club yesterday, Erin's face looked like I felt. We announced ourselves as non-committal and headed out. As turn after turn passed (8 mile loop, 10 mile loop, then13 mile loop), we just kept plugging until we were at the turnaround for the 20 mile option. It wasn't pretty, we weren't as bubbly as we usually are, but we ran a tough 21 miles over hilly terrain with tired legs and minds. As we were sitting in the hot tub after (NOTE: Ice really really really is better, we were being bad girls), we just kept remarking how thrilled we were to get that run in, how pivotal it felt to have another 20 done.

During March or in any month prior to the marathon, many of us plod on with only the faintest glimmer of hope in the form of the taper. The expression "the hay is in the barn," for those unintroduced, comes from the most challenging part of the taper (the 2 to 3 week period prior to a marathon where miles get cut back, everything hurts and a mental battle ensues). It is so hard not to let yourself squeeze one more workout in during these two weeks where workouts don't seem hard enough or long enough to maintain fitness, let alone tune up for a race. We tell ourselves over and over to "trust the training" and "believe in the taper," but it is an incredibly challenging task. Thus, as we finish up the last 3 weeks of this cycle, it may help to consider that every workout we can do well, every well-balanced meal and every good night of sleep is another bale in the barn.

Keep plugging, all. The hay is (almost) in the barn for the Boston runners. For Vermont City folks, you're just starting the hard part, but it too shall pass. One day at a time, one hour at a time, heck, one foot at a time if you need. Just get that hay into the barn.