Just One Marathon

Boston: Forget You

And although there's pain in my chest
I still wish you the best with a...
Forget you!

Since the Boston Athletic Association announced its new qualifying rules and times a couple of weeks ago*, I’ve felt a few different emotions, but one feeling has dominated: relief.

Still 17 minutes shy of achieving what’s now the old qualifying time in my category, I had a long road ahead of me to achieve this goal. And I have to be honest. I didn’t know if I had it in me. It’s not that I don’t think I could run a sub-4 hour marathon, if I was willing and able to put in the time and effort. I just didn’t know whether I was willing or able, given the kind of runner I am and living the kind of life I do right now.

And while chasing the brass ring of Boston has been, at moments, fun and invigorating, it has also been, at other times, frustrating and demoralizing. And you know what? I’ve gotten tired of finishing 20K, 30K, 42K distances and feeling like a loser because I wasn’t happy with my pace. (Yeah, I know, boohoo.)

I won’t ever stop trying to be faster, and if Boston ever seems with in reach, you can bet I’ll be chasing pavements again trying to earn a spot at the start line. But for now, I’m going to concentrate on reconnecting with the joy of running just for the hell of it.

Take it away, Cee Lo:

 

* For the record, this runner thinks that changing the qualifying times was absolutely the right thing to do. One of the defining features of the Boston Marathon is that it is run by those who achieve a high standard of excellence among their running peers. The qualifying times and process should ensure that those who have achieved that standard are able to run the race. It’s only fair.

Tempo Run: I Don't Get It

A few years back, I was doing an evening run with a local group. Shortly after we started, one of my running buddies glanced at a group who had surged quickly ahead. She said contemptuously, “I thought this was supposed to be a tempo run.”

And I was thinking, “What the hell is a tempo run?”

Yes, I’d heard the term, and even read a description or two, but I couldn’t make any sense of out of it. Something about starting a little slower, running almost as fast as you can for the middle distance, then cooling down at the end. But my problem back then was that I was always running as fast as I could. I had two speeds: running and not running. For me, it wasn’t a subtle art.

Fast forward a few years. I’ve built a good base of miles, so I’ve got the endurance. I’ve learned how to structure a useful speed training workout on the track. I’ve gradually, with a few exceptions, figured out how to pick the appropriate pace for the distance I’m covering. But I still can’t figure out the tempo run. (Throw in all that stuff about lactate thresholds and oxygen use and ... well, let's just say it gets a little complicated for a gal who, just this week, used the imaginary word "scientifical" while making a presentation to a group of doctors, nurses and health care professionals.)

Last Thursday, for example, I set out for an approximately 9K run, and thought might provide a good opportunity to break the tempo code. I read up on tempo runs in one of my favourite running books, Run Less, Run Faster. It described a 2K warm up, followed by approximately 5K at a challenging but manageable pace, then a cool-down of approximately 2K. But during my first 2K, I found myself with a deadly case of Lead Legs that I just couldn’t seem to shake. Plus, it was slippery, hilly and cold. So when I got to the 2K mark, I just thought, “naaahhh”, and settled for what was a lot more like a long, steady Sunday run.

That’s only the most recent example. Somehow I just can’t seem to slow myself down at the start and then push myself hard mid-run. Truth be told, it’s making me feel like a bit of a suck.

Any advice? 

Test run

Tomorrow morning at 8 a.m., I’ll be at the start line for the Canada Army Run here in Ottawa – one last 5K speed-test before the marathon.

 

I’m not sure what to expect. On Canada Day, I completed a 5K in just over 26 minutes. At the beginning of August, low blood iron levels led to a less-than-stellar 27+ minute race during which I felt crappy the whole time. I’m feeling peppier since then and have had many outings where my legs feel full of bounce. However, tired and winded Reluctant Runner still makes an appearance every once in a while.

 

Still, I’m aiming for a finish time of 26 minutes or less. Wish me luck.

Exploring What's Possible

On Canada Day, I’m running a 5K race to test my potential. The results will provide a predictor of my marathon completion time. An on-line race predictor indicates that if I can run a 5K race in 25 minutes, I could run a marathon in 3:59 – one minute faster than the Boston qualifying time of 4 hours for a woman my age.

 

That’ll be a challenge. My fastest 5K to date has been 26 minutes and 40 seconds. Honestly, I really have no reason to believe that I can shave almost 2 minutes off this time. I’ve only been speed training for about 3 weeks. I ran a half in May, but it wasn’t particularly fast. And I’ve had a wicked case of jelly-legs for the past week.

 

On the other hand, my friend and coach Barb feels I’ve got the speed in me. She’s run beside me during intervals and made me test my mettle. Her confidence opens me up to the possibility that my ability to run more quickly may have something to do with how fast I believe I am and how much I am willing to push myself.

 

I am going to stay open to that possibility for next Thursday’s race. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Messy

And if I was a bed,

I’d be an unmade bed.

Tom Waits, “Baby Gonna Leave Me”

 

Why do other people’s lives always seem so tidy? Me, I’m always forgetting my lunch, putting my car keys in the wrong place, and misplacing important documents. I go to work wearing one navy shoe and one black, often sporting a post-it note in my hair or a static-y stocking on the back of my sweater.

 

When it comes to running, I’m similarly disorganized. Sure, I make plans. I loooove to make plans. I create a training program, print it, post it on my fridge and, for the first few weeks, check off all my long runs religiously. Then life gets messy. I need to work late, or drive a kid to hockey practice, or I just get lazy. That neat little plan starts to look ridiculous when applied to a messy Reluctant Runner.

 

What helps? Structure. That’s why I’ve joined a running class to train for the hypothermic half marathon in Ottawa on January 24. I have a love-hate thing going with the group run. On one hand, it’s nice to be my own boss – run whenever I want to, at whatever pace I feel like, listening to my music. On the other hand, I really appreciate having someone set up a training schedule, map routes and supply running buddies.

 

During group runs, the running class divides into “pods”, based on our goal times for completing a half marathon. Not surprisingly, finding the right running pod has been, for me, a messy process. I started out with the two hour group. After all, that is my goal and I ran one half marathon in just under two hours. However, it’s been 15 months – and countless skipped runs – since I ran that sub-two half. These days, I can’t keep up. So, my next choice is the 2:15 group. Unfortunately, that pace feels a bit leisurely, since my slowest half marathon ever was about 3 minutes faster than 2:15. Mind you, it’s very enjoyable to run at that pace.

 

So, in my typical sloppy fashion, I’ve been alternating between the two groups. Last week, the clinic leader started a 2:07 group – yay! I ran with them on Sunday and it still feels like I’m holding back. Oh well. I’ll just keep muddling along, enjoying the company, and recognizing that this training schedule doesn’t fit into a neat little package.  

The Trouble With Intervals

For about the last 6 months, I’ve been following a training schedule that has me running intervals once a week: 400 metre intervals one week, 800s the next and 1600s (or 1 mile) the following week.

I love the 400s and can manage the 800s. But the 1600s? Hell.

 

I simply cannot run really fast for that long. Today, for example, I started my first 1600m interval running at a slightly-faster-than-usual pace (maybe 30 seconds/km faster than my normal pace) and felt pretty tired at the end. I ran the second one a little slower (not by choice). Then I just gave up and made an effort to finish my run at a decent pace. There seemed to be little point in running a 1600m interval when I knew I couldn’t sustain the  pace for that long.

 

Anyone else have this problem? How did you handle it? Maybe I should moderate my “faster” pace more? Or rest longer in between? Or build up to 1600s? Or maybe I’m just being a lazy candy-ass who needs to suck it up and go faster. If so, just tell me. I can take it. 

 

Post-script: Even though my 1600s barely qualify as interval training, this approach works! I have significantly increased my speed over the last six months Speed being a relative term.