Just One Marathon

The Frustrating 5K

I’m a bit run down, but I’m okay.

I just feel like calling it a day.

But you send me back to the start.

You drive a hard bargain.

-- Ron Sexsmith, Hard Bargain.

For almost a year now, I’ve been chasing the elusive 25-minute 5K. Unfortunately, I never seem to get any closer. Recently, I looked back on my entire relationship with this short but frustrating distance.

First date: My first run ever was the Cookie Run, a Fall event that was the culmination of the “learn to run” group I joined in 2005. The clinic introduced newbie runners to the sport gradually. The first week, we ran for one minute and walked for one minute, for a total of about 20 minutes exercise. The next week we did “2 and 1s”. The following week, “3 and 1s” and so on, until we had mastered the “10 and 1” method of running that was one of the key components of the running clinic’s philosophy. I remember how endless that extra minute of running seemed, when we added it each week, and how proud I was of my progress. I never thought about how long it took to run each kilometre – I just concentrating on actually making it through each kilometre. On the start line of the Cookie Run, I turned to our clinic leader and asked, “What would be a good time to complete this race?” She told me that somewhere around 30 minutes. My first time? 32:26. Was I disappointed? Nope. Never even occurred to feel let down. I was enthralled by this new person – this runner – I had discovered living inside my own body.

Honeymoon period: Having achieved one 5k race, I now felt like I had “been there, done that”. I moved on to ever-increasing distances – 10K, half-marathon, marathon – hardly looking back. Every once in a while, I’d find myself registered in a 5K run, and I always tried to improve my time just a little bit. However, the 5K always felt like it was not a “serious” distance and my efforts to improve my time were “just for fun”. Often, if I ran a 5K, it was simply because I hadn’t been training hard enough to run anything else. Although my times gradually improved, sometimes, I was just “getting out there”:

2007 “Emilie’s Run” – 28:00

2008 “Emilie’s Run” – 26:46

2009 Fall Colours 5K – 28:56 (a lazy period)

Commitment: Last year, in the midst of a serious effort to improve my marathon time, I started to think of the 5K differently. It became a natural extension of the speed training I had incorporated into my training schedule – a way to measure my progress. I set the goal of a 25-minute 5K – the predictor time for a 4-hour marathon. I have yet to achieve either of these goals, and eventually the 25-minute 5K became a goal in itself. However, my progress towards this goal has felt like one step forward and two steps back:

June 2010 Canada Day Run –  26:14

July 2010 National Capital Run – 27:28 (with as-yet-undiscovered low iron levels0

September 2010 Army Run – 25:39

March 2011 St Pat’s Run – 25:54

Today’s Ottawa Physio Run – 26:34

Recommitment: Today’s run was frustrating. I thought I’d be able to at least match or improve on the 5K time I logged just a month ago. It was the exact same course, and I’ve since run the 30k Around the Bay race, and been training pretty hard. But it was a rainy and windy day, I’ve been fighting a cold, I’m still recovering from logging 30K three weeks ago. I realized only a few minutes after I started the race that I didn’t have it in me today. And I was right. I ran almost a minute slower. In spite of that, I am not ready to give up on my 25-minute goal. Part of me wonders if I’ve plateau-ed. But another part of me thinks that a summer of speed work and a recommitment to my training schedule will allow me to, at least once, see the finish-line clock reading a time that starts with “24” as I pass by it.*

Why does it matter? It doesn’t really. That, and $4.61 will get me a coffee at Starbucks (or, rather, a grande tea latte, half-sweet with skim). But it’s exciting to have a goal. And I have to admit to getting a little kick out of being in the top 20 or so percent of my age category. Today, I actually finished third in my age group. Yeah, it’s cheap thrills because I think most people in 5K races are like me when I started – just in it to feel that sense of accomplishment from being able to run five kilometres. A little part of me still feels like that, too.

And … Ron Sexsmith: He is wonderful. A largely-undiscovered Canadian treasure. Here he is with Elvis Costello, who appreciates him, too:

 

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.

The View from Square One

If you’ve seen me on my long runs recently, you might have a hard time believing I ran a marathon just three and a half months ago. Afterwards, I slacked off in a major way, often running only once or twice a week and sometimes not running at all. It was awesome. And now I'm paying the price.

I’m back to my regular training schedule, but there are bound to be a few sore muscles as I track down, catch up to and jump back on the running bandwagon. This morning’s 18K was no exception. Run on what I hope will end up being the coldest day of the year (-33C with the wind chill), I logged a sluggish and slippery 6:12/km pace.

My goal race is Around the Bay, a 30K event in Hamilton, Ontario on March 28^th. I did the race once before, in 2009, and ran it in 3:17. But I’ve learned a lot since then, and logged some results that make me think I can do better this time. At this point, I have three possible goals.

Goal 1: Finish and improve my time. Feel healthy afterwards.

Goal 2: Finish in less than 3 hours. Feel healthy and satisfied afterwards.

Goal 3: Finish in 2:51, achieving the 5:42/km pace required to run a 4-hour marathon. Feel healthy and delusionally-optimistic afterwards.

Here’s the thing – I don’t want to run the first half significantly faster than the second half, the way I did in The Marathon That Must Not Be Named. So in a few weeks, I’m going to have a good long talk with myself and set a realistic goal for Around the Bay. I’m going to choose a pace and stick to it. That will require some real discipline on my part, because Around the Bay features some pretty spectacular hills right at the end. I’ll need to moderate my pace in the early miles and push myself at the end, just when it’s getting difficult. Here’s the elevation map, which I … um … “borrowed” from the very enjoyable blog Run by Numbers (thanks!):

 

 

 

 

 

And yes, there’s a guy dressed as the Grim Reaper who stands at the top of the last hill. He attempts to wave exhausted runners into the cemetery conveniently located nearby. With that in mind, I'll add:

Goal 4: Avoid feeling so exhausted that I want to take him up on his offer.

Discomfort: A Simple Equation

One long run in hot weather + a sleeveless running top = a wicked case of pit burn.

Pit burn is my term for heat rash under the armpits. Don't worry, I won't post pictures. It lasts for days, and while it's certainly not the worst pain in the world, that hasn't stopped me from complaining incessantly and showing my armpits to anyone who will look (and even a few people who won't).

Luckily for the viewing public, I've been on vacation this week, so there haven't been a lot of opportunities to flash my pits. This year we are `stay-cationing` -- just hanging around, doing stuff locally, taking short trips and remembering how much our kitchen reno cost. The stay-cation has been great for my running routine. Tomorrow, The Runner I Married and I will run a 5K race. While I'm not fool-hardy enough to set 25 minutes as my goal, I'm definitely aiming to break 26 minutes. We'll see.

My Kind of Race

I have my goal race! It’s the Wineglass Marathon in Corning, New York. If I am going to run a marathon (why am I doing this again?), then this is the one. Here’s what makes it good:

 

·  The course has been described as “mostly downhill”. Some runners say they find running downhill taxing. Me? I’ve never met a hill I didn’t like.

·   Almost one quarter of runners qualify for Boston in the race. Although that might just end up making me feel like a big loser.

·      It’s in wine country.

·   It has wine in the name.

·   They give away wine (champagne) to finishers.

·  I plan on drinking wine after I finish.

 

I celebrated the official start of marathon training by getting both slower and fatter. Yes, I’ve gained two pounds and lost 30 seconds off my long run pace per kilometre. But I have a LOT of good excuses, including hotter weather, a few sleepless nights and low iron. Plus, I’ve been incorporating more strength-training exercises into my routine, and I’m discovering muscles I never knew I had.

 

It has nothing to do with wine. Whatever gave you that idea?