December 1, 2010

Taper and Goals

Four days until CIM.  Taper week.

Surprisingly, I’m not jumping out of my skin, climbing the walls, obsessively cleaning the house or otherwise freaking out.  I’m actually mostly mellow and kind of in a state of shock.  The fact that there’s still MORE running to be done seems surreal.

Marathon Training started sixteen weeks ago when I decided to get out of my comfort zone.  I wanted to attempt something harder than I’ve ever done and see what happened.  Maybe in the back of my mind I never really thought I’d get here.  Maybe I thought it really would be too hard, and I’d quit along the way.  I was in probably the worst health of my life and coming out of a really bad patch in my marriage.  In hindsight, I don’t know if it was WISE to decide to train for a marathon.  But the process gave me something I could focus on and put energy toward, instead of letting that energy fester inside like a cancer and spin me into crazy-girl.

Right around that same time I started addressing my chronic and debilitating digestive issues.  The diagnosis was Leaky Gut Syndrome, where the intestine becomes permeable and food particles get through the intestinal lining into the blood stream.  My adrenals were shot, there was a chronic low-grade bacterial infection, my immune system was starting to resemble that of an AIDS patient… I was upright and moving through sheer willpower.  Train for a marathon?  You gotta be kidding.

There were a few stops-and-starts in the process, where my body called B.S. and I entered a forced rest.  Over the weeks I’ve changed my diet, swallowed a ton of supplements, learned about rest and recovery and lactic acid and stretching and support and faced a bunch of my own demons.

I looked Failure in the face and saw secret parts of me that don’t serve me anymore.  I released fears and embraced Possibility and Hope.  And I kept running.

Yesterday I visited Jennifer, my awesome acupuncturist over at Dragonfly in Boulder, for a final tune-up before race-day.  After checking my tongue and wrist pulses she looked me straight in the eye and said, “You did it.  You’re healthy.  Everything’s working the way it’s supposed to.”

Marathon Training was counter-intuitive to the healing process, but it was completely right for me.  I stressed my body to the limit and said, “Now, how are we going to build it back up?”  I wasn’t going to stop training unless Someone or Something told me to quit.  Nobody told me to quit and my body didn’t completely rebel, so I kept going.

My final tune-up with Jennifer was a full-body muscle release.  She addressed the tight calves that are causing some plantar fasciitis as well as the knots in my back and my tight hips.  There were some ten needles in my back, three at the base of my skull, four in my scalp at the crown of my head, two in my sacrum and another ten or so down my legs and in my feet.  I looked like a voodoo doll being offered up for sacrifice.  Afterwards I was so relaxed my voice dropped into that super-deep, sexy voice, the one that only happens when my body has been in a state of deep relaxation.

Because I’m having such a hard time holding on to the mental aspect of the race, I’ve been thinking a lot about what my new goals will be.  Throughout the training process there were a lot of conceptual goals that could only be measured through pure gut instinct.  At the race on Sunday there will be a clock measuring my progress.  The clock has no purpose other than to tick off seconds and wait for me.  Therefore, I need a new set of goals.

It would be very cool to get a Boston time in my first marathon, but who knows if that’s even possible.  I would have to come in under 3:45.  Since the journey to this marathon was my original goal, I’m going to stick to focusing on the journey to the finish line, and not the ultimate time.

Number One Goal: HAVE FUN.  No matter what.

Number 2:  Remember my race plan and don’t go out too fast.

Number 3: Hold steady at 8:45 for the first three miles, then decrease to 8:20/mile. For the last two miles, see if I can “turn the screw” a hair and squeeze out a little extra.

Number 4:  Come in under 4 hours.

Number 5: Be upright at the finish line.

Bill and Gwen will be cheering for me.  Gwen will have her bike so that she can maneuver around the city and find me at certain points.  Once I hit the 13.1 mile mark, she’ll probably meet me at the 20 and then at the finish line.  I can’t wait to see her and Bill at the finish line and run into their waiting arms.  Without their passion, dedication and support for this crazy idea of mine, none of this would have happened.  When I doubted myself, they believed in me.  They seemed to know something I didn’t, and I’m actively trying to learn.

So now, through their example, I’m starting to believe in myself, too.

Filed Under: Fall 2010, Training Tagged: , , ,
November 9, 2010

Marathon Training update #3

It’s cold and rainy this afternoon.  There’s a mellow feeling in the air; the change we’ve all so desperately awaited is finally here.  Indian Summer has ended.  We’ve passed through the gauntlet and the cold front that promises to bring the first snowfall has arrived.

I picked up more KT Tape at the Boulder Running Company after blazing through the first roll in a week and a half.  The magic stuff has held my knee in place and today, provided support to my sore heel during a recovery run.  There’s still a little swelling in the knee but with the KT Tape I can run pain-free.  I’m going to make it to the finish line of the California International Marathon come hell or high water… maybe a little of both.

This is my last full week of hard training before taper.  Sunday, November 14 is my last Long Run, with 22 miles on the books.  I ran 21 miles this past Sunday and it wasn’t pretty at the end.  Friday’s 10k PR pace did a number on my quads and hip flexors, and they weren’t all the way healed after a mere 48 hours. I was good through the first 15 miles on Sunday, then muscles started getting pretty noisy and the tight right hip flexor went into full-blown temper tantrum.  I stopped twice to stretch, the last time at 19.5 miles. And then I got hungry.  Not “I need sugar” hungry but “I’m going to eat that horse standing in the pasture” hungry.  I wanted food, and a LOT of it.  NOW.  The thought of eating another energy gel made my stomach flip-flop.  I ate it anyway, but it did nothing to alleviate the serious caloric deprivation that was getting worse by the minute.

I made it through the 21 miles and even did two laps around the parking lot just to get the Garmin to hit 21.0 instead of stopping at 20.8 miles.  No way was I getting that close to the end and NOT have a literal record of my accomplishment.

When I got home I ate three full meals in the span of five hours.  My back went into muscle spasms three different times, so intense that I had to lie down.  After the third time I stayed down; the message had been received.

It took a full 24 hours before my kidney function returned to normal and the lactic acid moved out of my muscles.  This time around, I’m going to do it better.  I’m going to bring cereal bars on the run in case I run into caloric deficit that requires carbs and not electrolytes.  And, I’m not going to do speed work 48 hours before I run.

Maybe it’s the work that I’m doing this week, or the fact that taper hasn’t hit yet, but I feel like I’m in a pretty good place.  Yeah, Sunday really sucked after the run.  But it’s supposed to be hard, right?  If training and running a marathon were easy, everyone would do it.  The fact that I can run with Heidi and talk for two hours straight about the intricacies of pace, body heat, fuel, fluid intake, hormonal fluctuations and digestion, emotional releases, self-awareness and even mineral deficiencies as we age, tells me that there’s a lot of knowledge to be gleaned from the process of training for a marathon.

There’s nothing fast about marathon training.  It’s a carefully planned process that can’t be rushed, much as we would sometimes like to move things along.  Maybe that’s why I’m so mellow today.  The gray sky reflects my contentment with looking back over the months and seeing where I’m headed.  I like the change that’s coming.  This fall has been a flurry of activity, both literally and metaphorically.  One last big push, and then it’s time to taper, heal up those niggling aches and pains, and prepare for the big moment.

Filed Under: Fall 2010, Training Tagged: , , ,
November 6, 2010

10k tune-up

I ran my first 10k tune-up yesterday. Coach Gwen said this run would give us a good target for the next 10k tune-up in a few weeks, which in turn would give us a realistic target for the CIM Marathon in four weeks.  This was a run that mattered and I needed to be ready.

Except, I wasn’t looking forward to this run.  The past few days had been a little crazy at the Robinson house, with Sophie getting ready for her first performance in a play.  She’s been super-excited about it, but with the time-management and orchestrating children I’ve been doing, mental prep for an important run fell by the wayside.

We were out late at her performance and didn’t get to bed until 10:30.  I know this sounds moderately reasonable, but I’m in usually in bed and asleep by 8:30 or 9pm.  I had to pry Sophie out of bed, direct her to the shower and get her ready for the before-school choir practice.  She also had a field trip to the Court House for their mock “Congressional Hearings”, the 5th grades’ end-of-unit speeches on the Constitution, and we had a disagreement about appropriate clothing choices for taking a trip to the Court House.  Bill left to drive the carpool; ten minutes later the other driver showed up at our house.  Apparently he forgot to pick up the other kid, which was fine because it was actually their day to drive.  I couldn’t call him to tell him what was going on because he forgot his cell phone on the kitchen counter.

By 8:00 I still didn’t know where I was going to run.  I dressed in running shorts and a tank top, and layered my black Las Vegas Rock-n-Roll cotton t-shirt on top of the whole ensemble.  Driving into Boulder, Connor and I discussed where I might run.  My sweet little 8-year-old doesn’t have a clue where “Dowdy Draw”, “Whiterock” or “Bobolink” are, but he’s heard the names thrown around enough to participate in a conversation about the nuances of the various trails.  Then he said, “Maybe you should just run at the Boulder Reservoir, since you like doing your long runs over there.”  That was sound advice.

I dropped him off at school and headed north to the Boulder Reservoir, cutting in on 63rd street.  Instead of parking at Coot Lake, I continued to the parking lot on 55th, behind the reservoir and slightly south of Monarch Road.  I needed a change of scenery and a new starting point.  This would work fine.

Coach Gwen said to run a one-mile warm-up, then hit the 10k and finish with a little cool-down.  I headed north on 55th and turned east on Monarch Road, feeling the chill of the morning air on my hands.  The weather forecast called for 64 degrees with the weekend hitting possible record highs of 78 degrees.  Completely unseasonable weather for this time of year, but the warm days mean I’m still running in shorts and a tank top.  I’ll take it.

The warm-up was slow and easy.  The iPod played but I didn’t pay attention to the music.  Sometimes I keep the music on low just to have something to ignore; that way I don’t have to go too far for stimulation.  It’s a whole new branch of reverse psychology, but it totally works for me.

The Garmin beeped at the one-mile mark, but I ran a little further.  Some serious energy was brewing in my body and the Lara-volcano was about to blow.  At 1.15 miles I stopped running and resorted to walking in circles on the deserted dirt road.  There, north of Boulder at 9:15 on a cloudless November morning, energy came pouring out of me.  My arms and fingers tingled and both eyes leaked tears.  Facial muscles screwed up with the force of emotion that emanated from my pores.  The legs kept moving, I shook the arms and fingers, as though my movements could jar the energy from my cells and release it into the air.

After a minute the main tidal wave was over with smaller aftershocks rocking my mellow.  A split decision told me to get ready to run and use the remainder of the energy to start my fastest 10k race to date.

I reset the Garmin and punched Start.  Immediately the display showed a pace in the 7-minute range.  I kept glancing at the watch to see where the pace would settle, as it was imperative that I not go out too fast.  With the amount of energy goosing me along, I could very well run my fastest mile to date and not have anything left for a distance race.

When the Garmin showed that I was pacing at 7:07 I slowed to a more sustainable pace.  I like 7:00 miles, but can’t hold them for more than 10-15 minutes.  The road felt relatively flat and I ran steadily for the first mile and a half until I hit Coot Lake.

At Coot Lake I traded road for dirt trail and took off around the dam of Boulder Reservoir.  I’ve run several races at the Rez over the past few years and knew that there were several inclines, though nothing horrible.

When the Garmin beeped “2 miles” I added a little speed, dropping almost 10 seconds off my pace.  The next three miles were where I wanted to hold pace at the upper threshold of my capacity, to see if I could keep the screw turned and still run steady.  Miles three, four and five eased by, helped along by Tab Benoit, memories of my last horrible run on these trails, thoughts about my next run at the Rez in two days, and Marathon visualization.  I checked in with my legs from time to time and was pleasantly surprised to hear that everything was a “Go”.

The KT Tape wound around my knee provided the additional support that was needed to keep me pain-free, and my feet felt great.  A few times I noticed how high and tight my shoulders felt, and breathed into the release.  They fell away from my ears and the better posture kept me moving.

The Garmin beeped at the end of mile three and I reset it at the end of the first 5k (I wanted to be able to compare splits when I was done).  The time read 23:37 for the first 5k.  Gwen and I were both obsessed with my splits, considering the start-stop training of the past few weeks.  This was a test run that would tell us what the next four weeks would look like.

At the entrance gate I looped around and started back around the Rez to be sure to get the full 10k in with a little bit of extra for the cool-down.  The first mile of the second 5k was a doozy, with 201 feet of ascent and 198 feet of descent.  I was still on dirt trails again, the sun shone on my salty face and the arm warmers were handy with wiping the sweat that beaded on my upper lip.

At the end of mile four I picked up the pace.  Two miles to go.  Did I have it in me to “turn the screw” a little further, to pick up the cadence and give it my all?  Could I PR today, away from the adrenaline of a real race?

Dropping another 10 seconds from my pace, I adjusted my cadence and opened up my hips a little further.  Loosening up the legs allowed for more speed on the hills and a faster recovery on the mixed terrain.  The quads were firing and I felt the ache of sustained speed.  Mile five was a “breather” mile, as there was only 90 feet of ascent and 108 feet of descent through the entire lap.  This was as flat as it would get.  Easy.

The Garmin rolled over to mile six and I held steady.  Give it a little push, I thought, don’t let up.  The terrain rolled again and I pushed through the hills, surprised to see that I was holding a 7:00 pace.

And then the watched beeped the end of mile 6.  I watched the hundreths of the mile tick by, holding steady to the pace until I saw the magic distance number: 3.1 miles.  Punching the stop button, I immediately slowed to a walk.  Done.  I had raced myself, raced the clock, and set a new PR.  My time for the second 5k was 22:51, a full 46 seconds faster than the first half.

“I did it.  I did it.  I did it.”  Saying it out loud was better than keeping it in my head.  No one heard me, no one heard my voice crack with emotion as I repeated those words.

Later that day I analyzed the numbers: 917 feet of elevation gain over the 6.2 mile course, and 897 feet of descent.  The splits were negative, which was exactly what I wanted to do:  7:38, 7:37, 7:29, 7:30, 7:20, 7:19, with a 7:03 kick at the end.  There were no aid stations, I didn’t drink any water during the run, and didn’t consume any fuel.  This was me running.  I gave it my all and can honestly say that it was the best race of my life.  I was focused, stayed on track, held pace when I needed to and cranked it up a notch when the time was right.  I rocked the hills and used the descents to power me through the next one.  I was at the upper level of my lactate threshold, and I held steady.  The start-stop training over the past few weeks hasn’t hurt me.  I’m stronger now than I’ve ever been, and faster.  I can do this.  I’m looking forward to the next 10k tune-up and then, the marathon.

Keep running.

Filed Under: Fall 2010, Racing, Training Tagged: , , , , ,
«Older Posts