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.
Showing posts with label training. Show all posts
Showing posts with label training. Show all posts
Friday, October 7, 2011
Sunday, October 2, 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
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
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
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...
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...
Monday, April 18, 2011
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
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
Sunday, April 3, 2011
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
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
Friday, April 1, 2011
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?
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?
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Wordless Wednesday: Ava Bean
Need a fool proof method to get out of bed and run every morning? Get one of these.
Monday, March 14, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Wordless Wednesday: OCD
How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.
Friday night, I sat and made my schedule for the remaining days until Boston. What you see is an embarrassing display of OCD. Blue is the run, green is the time of my alarm and red are days I need to make sure to go to bed early. Somehow, micromanaging the next 52 days makes it all seem doable. How do you approach what seems overwhelming and insurmountable?
Plug on.
S
Friday night, I sat and made my schedule for the remaining days until Boston. What you see is an embarrassing display of OCD. Blue is the run, green is the time of my alarm and red are days I need to make sure to go to bed early. Somehow, micromanaging the next 52 days makes it all seem doable. How do you approach what seems overwhelming and insurmountable?
S
Sunday, February 27, 2011
The Week Ahead
Let Monster Month begin! I bought extra snacks at the grocery store, am scheduling in more sleep and am ready to start Monster Month, albeit in abbreviated form.
Sunday: 20 miler today, easy pace
Monday: 6 miler, plus upper body
Tuesday: 8 mile tempo
Wednesday: Off. :)
Thursday: 10 miler, progressive.
Friday: 5 miles, legs
Saturday: 16 miles (so that I can enjoy Burlington's Mardi Gras.)
Have a great week all.
Sunday: 20 miler today, easy pace
Monday: 6 miler, plus upper body
Tuesday: 8 mile tempo
Wednesday: Off. :)
Thursday: 10 miler, progressive.
Friday: 5 miles, legs
Saturday: 16 miles (so that I can enjoy Burlington's Mardi Gras.)
Have a great week all.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
53 Days to Boston
Shit. There are only 53 days before Boston. My math tells me this gives me 43 more days of training, plus a 10 day taper. This includes a mini-taper for the New Bedford Half on March 20th. The past few weeks have been crazy. I've thankfully fit in most of my long runs and been consistent on other workouts, but am missing my normal diet of midweek long runs that I feel are key to success.
So what to do with 43 days left? I'm hoping for a 20 this Sunday (last Sunday, it was so cold, I skipped our group run in favor of warmer afternoon temps). Since the weekend is my only real free time, I'm going to have to double up tough workouts, with my tempo runs on Saturdays from now until April. Given my schedule, my best hope is to aim for 6 more weeks at 50 to 60 quality miles a week. It's not the cycle I wanted for Boston, but the perfect cycle doesn't necessarily guarantee a perfect race. Here's hoping talent, a solid base and a smart race strategy get me through.
Besides a hope and a prayer, I do have some things on my side. I'm not injured (knock on wood) besides the regular winter/training aches. I've been running a lot of hills, including self-flagellation on Maple Street at least once a week. I've been consistent about speed work, which is always my weak point. I'm almost at race weight, so I don't have to waste energy thinking about diet. Most importantly, I don't feel like my life depends on my Boston performance. This has been a recovery year, and it is unrealistic to expect a banner performance. Would I like a PR? Absolutely. Will I be devastated if I don't get one? Nope. I'll enjoy the party, and enjoy my first Boston experience.
Run On.
S
So what to do with 43 days left? I'm hoping for a 20 this Sunday (last Sunday, it was so cold, I skipped our group run in favor of warmer afternoon temps). Since the weekend is my only real free time, I'm going to have to double up tough workouts, with my tempo runs on Saturdays from now until April. Given my schedule, my best hope is to aim for 6 more weeks at 50 to 60 quality miles a week. It's not the cycle I wanted for Boston, but the perfect cycle doesn't necessarily guarantee a perfect race. Here's hoping talent, a solid base and a smart race strategy get me through.
Besides a hope and a prayer, I do have some things on my side. I'm not injured (knock on wood) besides the regular winter/training aches. I've been running a lot of hills, including self-flagellation on Maple Street at least once a week. I've been consistent about speed work, which is always my weak point. I'm almost at race weight, so I don't have to waste energy thinking about diet. Most importantly, I don't feel like my life depends on my Boston performance. This has been a recovery year, and it is unrealistic to expect a banner performance. Would I like a PR? Absolutely. Will I be devastated if I don't get one? Nope. I'll enjoy the party, and enjoy my first Boston experience.
Run On.
S
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Insider Info: Blog to Follow
Want to read a running blog by someone funnier than me, who is also getting ready for the Boston Marathon? Check out Running with Liz at:
http://runningwithliz.blogspot.com/
She's funny, candid and always knows how many days we have until Boston. All handy things as we plod on through this winter.
http://runningwithliz.blogspot.com/
She's funny, candid and always knows how many days we have until Boston. All handy things as we plod on through this winter.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Flexibility
This post has nothing to do with touching my toes or Downward Dog. I do neither particularly well, and although that kind of flexibility is also on my to-do list, the flexibility to which I refer today is of a more global variety.
Today was supposed to be my first official 20 miler of the Boston cycle (I did 19.5 last week, but it wasn't official). Last night, however, Burlington got 9 inches of heavy, wet snow and because it's a weekend, the sidewalks haven't received much attention. To top it off, I have a chemistry and biology exam on Wednesday and a practice MCAT next Sunday, plus my regular 40 hour work week staring me in the face. So, I didn't do 20 miles today. I didn't even do 10. I slogged for an hour tonight between practice sets and returned looking like a human slush puppy. But I got out there.
Life or not, Boston is coming. Long runs are vital. But so is sanity. I'm a runner but I'm also a researcher, a student, a daughter and a sister. So when weeks like this crop up, I start bargaining with myself. If all else fails, I try for at least an hour of running a day. If the wheels really come off the bus, I sneak out for 30 minutes. On really bad days, I settle for ten minutes and some crunches. But those days are rare. Years of experience have taught me that running makes me a better/kinder/more focused researcher/student/daughter/sister. As such, I can rationalize 30 minutes of running taken from all my other responsibilities.
How flexible are you? What do you do to figure out how to balance running, the demands of the marathon and the inevitable life monster that disrupts even the more organized of people?
Run On.
~S
Today was supposed to be my first official 20 miler of the Boston cycle (I did 19.5 last week, but it wasn't official). Last night, however, Burlington got 9 inches of heavy, wet snow and because it's a weekend, the sidewalks haven't received much attention. To top it off, I have a chemistry and biology exam on Wednesday and a practice MCAT next Sunday, plus my regular 40 hour work week staring me in the face. So, I didn't do 20 miles today. I didn't even do 10. I slogged for an hour tonight between practice sets and returned looking like a human slush puppy. But I got out there.
Life or not, Boston is coming. Long runs are vital. But so is sanity. I'm a runner but I'm also a researcher, a student, a daughter and a sister. So when weeks like this crop up, I start bargaining with myself. If all else fails, I try for at least an hour of running a day. If the wheels really come off the bus, I sneak out for 30 minutes. On really bad days, I settle for ten minutes and some crunches. But those days are rare. Years of experience have taught me that running makes me a better/kinder/more focused researcher/student/daughter/sister. As such, I can rationalize 30 minutes of running taken from all my other responsibilities.
How flexible are you? What do you do to figure out how to balance running, the demands of the marathon and the inevitable life monster that disrupts even the more organized of people?
Run On.
~S
Sunday, January 23, 2011
This Week's Workload: 12 Weeks to Go
We're 12 weeks from Boston tomorrow, which means I have 10 weeks of work and 2 weeks of taper left before I toe the line in Hopkinton. It's time to start thinking about goals and honing in on some quality workouts to help me achieve them. I have had a few good weeks of training recently, including a workout of 800s last Thursday that felt positively easy. I'm smart enough to know that everything can go right in training and crash on race day, but I'm hopeful that the next 10 weeks will result in my strongest marathon to date.
I have three quality workouts planned for this week, and a total of about 60 miles of running. I would like to do more, but I am focusing on tuning up speed over endurance this cycle and tired legs can't run fast.
*Long Run: Sub-zero temps combined with Raynaud's meant I had no choice but to head indoors so I did a 16 miler this morning. On the treadmill. It was as bad as you might imagine.
*Tempo: I normally do a tempo run on Saturday before my long run to simulate race day, but I had to get my car repaired, so instead, I'll do it tomorrow on tired legs. 8 miles, with 6 at 6:40 pace, approximately my 10K pace.
*Intervals: My least favorite, ever. I am always the one who falls for more reps of shorter intervals over longer intervals and this week is no exception. I cannot tell you the number of times I have begged for quarter repeats instead of 1200s and gone on to regret it. This week, I'm doing 20 by 200 and hoping for very consistent 40 second repeats and will be focusing on form, particularly arm swing and knee drive.
Have a great week of running all. Stay warm. Spring will come again.
S
I have three quality workouts planned for this week, and a total of about 60 miles of running. I would like to do more, but I am focusing on tuning up speed over endurance this cycle and tired legs can't run fast.
*Long Run: Sub-zero temps combined with Raynaud's meant I had no choice but to head indoors so I did a 16 miler this morning. On the treadmill. It was as bad as you might imagine.
*Tempo: I normally do a tempo run on Saturday before my long run to simulate race day, but I had to get my car repaired, so instead, I'll do it tomorrow on tired legs. 8 miles, with 6 at 6:40 pace, approximately my 10K pace.
*Intervals: My least favorite, ever. I am always the one who falls for more reps of shorter intervals over longer intervals and this week is no exception. I cannot tell you the number of times I have begged for quarter repeats instead of 1200s and gone on to regret it. This week, I'm doing 20 by 200 and hoping for very consistent 40 second repeats and will be focusing on form, particularly arm swing and knee drive.
Have a great week of running all. Stay warm. Spring will come again.
S
Friday, January 21, 2011
The Lone Wolf
(Names somewhat masked because I didn’t ask permission…hope you know who you are)
I’ve always approached running as a solitary activity. After all, no one else can get you from miles 20 to 26.2. It’s you against the Wall and the world. In the past few months, however, I’m starting to rethink my approach and realizing the wealth of opportunities for learning and improvement from running with a group.
My first inkling that I didn’t have to do this all alone came in the December half marathon. Rather than fight the pack of guys who joined me at the mile mark and do my customary “drop ahead or behind, anything to run alone move,” I hung out with them. They told me about the history of a beautiful tree. One shared his experiences coaching a local high school. We pressed on together. We took turns leading but stayed in a pack until mile 8, when it was time for me to drop the proverbial hammer per my race plan. Unlike mile 8 in other half marathons, I was surprised almost an hour had passed. I was surprised to find responsive legs. I was surprised to mourn the loss of my pack.
A further rebuttal of my lone wolf way has crept up on me as I become more involved with the local running group. On Sunday, I joined them for a long run. Not that anyone would believe it, but I am incredibly shy about running with other people. Tell you my life story, pitch you a research paper or sell you ice cubes in January, fine. But you want me to run with you? Um…I got over it and met them for an 8 o’clock run. And I didn’t even vomit from nerves. We set out as a big group, then splintered off as the paces spread out. We got to have those first conversations of “What do you do?” and “What have you run?” and the inevitable Vermont question, “Oh! Do you know so and so?” as we plodded on through snow, slush, ice and wind. Towards the end of the run, there were just 4 of us left. I was badgering M with questions to get him to slow down. In the interim, I was gathering details from everyone’s lives, running and otherwise. In the days following, it has occurred to me that by running alone, I was missing much of the texture of running. I was missing everyone else’s story, everyone else’s “best running lesson ever.” For that matter, I was missing everyone’s best life lesson ever.
This was corroborated on our mini group run tonight. My friend Katie and I planned to run and I wanted to check out SkiRack’s Thursday night fun run, so I convinced her we wouldn’t go too fast and we headed out with S leading us. During the run, I discovered that S not only has a Masters in Sports Psychology, but also manages to balance a travel intensive job with running and coaching. Talk about a wealth of knowledge of which I would be totally unawares if I were out there plodding alone. As I prepare for Boston, and for another racing season, I’m hoping to absorb his knowledge via osmosis.
Running alone some of the time is character building and just a logistical necessity. Especially in smaller marathons, there is a distinct possibility you will spend some time alone and if you aren’t mentally ready, well hang on, it gets really dark in there. However, with highs of 5 this weekend, I admit to looking forward to having other people to share the road with. Looking forward, I’m excited to be a human sponge, soaking up hundreds of cumulative years of racing and running knowledge that I would otherwise be wasting.
So to M, J, B, K and others from Sunday, to Katie and S tonight, to the guys from the Roxbury Half, thanks for shedding some light on why you all have been running together for years, and for letting me join the pack.
Run On.
S
Saturday, January 8, 2011
It was a good week.
Sometimes, things just click. After a December I'd rather forget, I benefited from some of that "resolution" mania floating around and had a great week of running. I moved my runs back to the morning, ran the hard workouts hard and the recovery workouts at recovery pace. My tempo run today felt effortless and (knock on wood), nothing hurts. Even my calf, which is in consistent pain, isn't bothering me too much.
Is it a subconscious New Year's Resolution? My new calf compression sleeves? Luck? I don't know. I know that it feels good to have a good week of training done, and encourages me to add a second week to that streak. I know that a PR in Boston seems closer to the realm of possibilities. I know that getting up to do 14 miles tomorrow morning is much easier after a good week than a bad week.
I'm so excited to have a good week in the bank. I hope you had one too. If you didn't, I hope tomorrow marks the beginning of one. It's like that quip we heard as children from parents and teachers: if at first you don't succeed, try, try again.
Run On
~S
Is it a subconscious New Year's Resolution? My new calf compression sleeves? Luck? I don't know. I know that it feels good to have a good week of training done, and encourages me to add a second week to that streak. I know that a PR in Boston seems closer to the realm of possibilities. I know that getting up to do 14 miles tomorrow morning is much easier after a good week than a bad week.
I'm so excited to have a good week in the bank. I hope you had one too. If you didn't, I hope tomorrow marks the beginning of one. It's like that quip we heard as children from parents and teachers: if at first you don't succeed, try, try again.
Run On
~S
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Juiceheads Beware
In my former life, I was a gym rat. I lifted five days a week, consumed a huge quantity of protein and espoused about muscle groups with my fellow rats. Despite my best efforts, however, I never found myself particularly muscle bound. Depressed with my permanent status as an ectomorph, I gave up on lifting and focused again on running.
Winter in Vermont is brutal. It is particularly brutal for runners. We face ice, sleet and snow. Sidewalks don't get plowed for weeks after a blizzard and if we don't run at noon, we are doomed to be creatures of the dark at either end of the day. Last winter, I ran outside almost every day as a matter of pride. I have screws in my "ice" shoes, an indeterminate quantity of winter running layers and a healthy dose of Yankee stubborn in my blood. This year, however, I broke down and joined a gym. I still plan to run outside when the footing is good, but on days when it's slippery, you'll find me slogging away the miles on a treadmill.
Yesterday, I talked about how inclement weather is a good training tool for Boston. Today, I'm telling you I joined a gym to avoid it. So what gives? Inclement weather is one thing. Getting hit by a snow plow or breaking my leg is another. Beyond bodily harm, a 6 mile run slogging through a foot of snow is not necessarily the quality I need to be putting in on the road to Boston.
What gym did I join? None other than the juicehead haven of Planet Fitness. With unbeatable low rates, few people doing cardio and 24 hour availability, it was the best choice for me. It looks like I'll start to get my money's worth immediately, with freezing rain on Friday morning in the forecast.
Happy Running all. Think of me fondly, running along side this guy:
Winter in Vermont is brutal. It is particularly brutal for runners. We face ice, sleet and snow. Sidewalks don't get plowed for weeks after a blizzard and if we don't run at noon, we are doomed to be creatures of the dark at either end of the day. Last winter, I ran outside almost every day as a matter of pride. I have screws in my "ice" shoes, an indeterminate quantity of winter running layers and a healthy dose of Yankee stubborn in my blood. This year, however, I broke down and joined a gym. I still plan to run outside when the footing is good, but on days when it's slippery, you'll find me slogging away the miles on a treadmill.
Yesterday, I talked about how inclement weather is a good training tool for Boston. Today, I'm telling you I joined a gym to avoid it. So what gives? Inclement weather is one thing. Getting hit by a snow plow or breaking my leg is another. Beyond bodily harm, a 6 mile run slogging through a foot of snow is not necessarily the quality I need to be putting in on the road to Boston.
What gym did I join? None other than the juicehead haven of Planet Fitness. With unbeatable low rates, few people doing cardio and 24 hour availability, it was the best choice for me. It looks like I'll start to get my money's worth immediately, with freezing rain on Friday morning in the forecast.
Happy Running all. Think of me fondly, running along side this guy:
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Gearing Up
It's been a bizarre weather week. Unseasonable temperatures and serious winds have made for interesting training scenarios. Every time we face inclement weather and I yearn to stay in bed or run indoors, I remind myself that anything could happen weather-wise (or otherwise) in Boston, and I'd better be ready. Yesterday, I fought wind on a basic six miler. Today, I had track work in some serious humidity. I was overdressed heading out the door and was a sweaty mess by the time I reached the track.
Thankfully, the workout looming ahead distracted me from the hair plastered to my face. I haven't officially done speed since February and to describe myself as anxious would be a gross understatement. I dutifully did my warm-up, followed by some stride drills, then set into an "easy" workout of 400s. In February, Lee and I did 20 400s on the indoor track. I wouldn't say the workout was easy, but we survived and felt pretty tough. Today, I was aiming for 4 at a 1:40 pace, about the equivalent of my half marathon pace pre-surgery (PS). After this workout, I refuse to believe that I ever maintained that pace for 13 miles.
Being honest, the workout went fine. I huffed and puffed and survived. My legs felt fine, I didn't have a lot of stabbing pain around the incision and I went on to do a few more laps of less structured speed play. As much of a doubting Thomas as I can be, there was a teeny tiny part of myself that thought I might have an effortless workout and be able to say, "Aha, I really didn't lose that much conditioning!" But I did. So now starts the hard work of rebuilding.
Thankfully, the workout looming ahead distracted me from the hair plastered to my face. I haven't officially done speed since February and to describe myself as anxious would be a gross understatement. I dutifully did my warm-up, followed by some stride drills, then set into an "easy" workout of 400s. In February, Lee and I did 20 400s on the indoor track. I wouldn't say the workout was easy, but we survived and felt pretty tough. Today, I was aiming for 4 at a 1:40 pace, about the equivalent of my half marathon pace pre-surgery (PS). After this workout, I refuse to believe that I ever maintained that pace for 13 miles.
Being honest, the workout went fine. I huffed and puffed and survived. My legs felt fine, I didn't have a lot of stabbing pain around the incision and I went on to do a few more laps of less structured speed play. As much of a doubting Thomas as I can be, there was a teeny tiny part of myself that thought I might have an effortless workout and be able to say, "Aha, I really didn't lose that much conditioning!" But I did. So now starts the hard work of rebuilding.
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