Category Archives: Marathons & Running

Sweet Excess and the Post-Event Blues

Me - Potomac River Marathon Finish

Being a creature of habit, I did not take a day off after running last Sunday’s marathon. I stoicly made my way to the gym for a core class. It would be a perfect post-marathon workout, I thought, as it would not involve the legs too much and I could continue steadily on my path of fitness.

I was correct in assuming the class was not leg-intensive. However, I overlooked that my run the day before had been pretty impactful on my body, especially to my core/abdominals.

On some level I knew this, but I felt so awesome after the run that I did not want the feeling to end. I figured the only way to keep the endorphin rush going was to head to the gym for more activity.

Everything started out okay, but about 20 minutes into my 45-minute class, my energy began to seep out of me. I made it through that core class, but only by gritting my teeth and gutting it out (literally).

After leaving class, fatigue continued to wind its way through my body. The intense activity during the last 45 minutes had tipped me over the edge of exuberance into a pool of post-event exhaustion.

The rest of the day I spent feeling oddly languid. Nothing bothered or stressed me. I reveled in my post-event accomplishment, content from having completed the marathon and exceeding my time goals. I signed up for another marathon that evening. Man, I love post-event bliss.

However, post-event bliss always ends, and this time was no exception. The next day I felt even more fatigued. A pain in my right quad was hanging around. Frustrated, I took the day off from the gym.

Wednesday, I ran a low-key three miles. My breathing was often ragged, as though I was pushing myself too hard. My heart rate was messed up, pounding from an easy effort. My quad, which I thought would feel better through the run, complained softly throughout and never loosened up.

I also lost control of my diet around mid-week, grabbing quick-energy sugary foods and fatty cheese. I even broke down one day and munched a few potato chips. That bummed me out even more.

What was wrong with me? I had been doing such a great job with my diet, just achieved my personal best marathon time, and here I was stuffing myself with junk while my body ached. Post-event blues.

The post-event blues happen to me almost every year around this time. I am inspired and invigorated by all of the physical activity of spring, and it suddenly morphs into something else.

I know the post-event blues are coming on the heels of post-event bliss, but not exactly when. Upon reflection I understand what’s happened… after I’ve eaten the junk I didn’t really want or need and tried to push myself when I should have taken a rest day. Or two.

Do others experience this? If so, how do you manage it? Is there any way to ward it off? Suggestions welcome.

I would like to do a better job of handling the post-event blues. I believe they are quite common among those who participate in endurance events. After all, many of us are avidly pursuing the endorphin rush only achieved through sweet excess.

Comparing a Marathon to Randonneuring

Every once in a while, someone asks me how a marathon compares to randonneuring. Running versus randonneuring was also a recent topic on the “randon” list, one of the main randonneuring listservs.

Having just completed a marathon as well as a flèche and a 300K within a month’s timeframe, I thought I’d share my own experiences of both.

Post-marathon bike ride. Photo by Felkerino

Post-marathon bike ride. Photo by Felkerino

Overall, I’ve found the two activities a challenge to compare, but if I had to make a call I would say a marathon is most similar to a 300K brevet in terms of effort and toll on the body. That is obviously a rough comparison, as all rides and runs will vary depending on conditioning, the terrain of the course, and the weather during the event.

Running is more stressful on the body mile per mile, and it generally takes me a few days to lose my post-marathon stiffness. It takes me longer on the bike to get to that level of post-ride stiffness, and when I do, it feels more localized.

A marathon’s after-effects are noticeable in my quads, calves, hamstrings, core, and adductors. I feel the effort of a ride primarily in my quads, hips, lower back, ankles, and sometimes my neck.

My skin gets more beat up from being on the bike over a long effort than when running a marathon. This is probably due to being out in the elements longer, generating our own wind (does that make sense?) while riding, and riding on the open road as compared to running in an urban environment that is overall more sheltered from the elements. All but one of the marathons in which I’ve participated have taken place in cities.

Felkerino and me. Flatbread 200K brevet

Food I can easily digest while riding, I would not even consider eating during a run. My stomach is much more sensitive when running, maybe because it gets jostled around more than when I’m on the bike.

With rides that are 300K and longer, you are not only recovering from the effort of the brevet but also managing some sleep deprivation, as all rides over 300K distance require starts of 5 a.m. or earlier (at least when you ride with D.C. Randonneurs), and I almost never go to bed before 10:30, even on brevet eves. Marathons generally start later, at 7 or 8 a.m.

Those are some of the physical differences that I’ve encountered. My approach to running also varies distinctly to that of randonneuring. For me, running is primarily a solitary activity. I don’t have a regular running buddy and I train by myself.

In contrast, almost all randonneuring is a team effort with Felkerino. We train together, set randonneuring goals as a team, and ride almost all brevets on tandem.

Photo by Bill Beck

Photo by Bill Beck

I fit my running events in around Felkerino’s and my randonneuring calendar. That works well, as spring marathons in the D.C. area happen just before the brevet series really gets going. By the time fall rolls around, the Super Randonneur series has come and gone and Felkerino and I have usually completed any big bicycling events we planned, be it a tour or other activity. Fall is prime time for running.

I like maintaining a good base of running and cycling fitness, as I’ve found it wards off burnout with either activity. I like keeping a foot in both communities, as they are both quite different. Also, I think it’s important to balance out my cycling with a weight-bearing activity like running, especially in light of my family history with osteoporosis.

Brevet entry fees are much more reasonable. Thirty-five dollars for 375-mile bike ride is a bargain in my book. Brevets require more complicated staging, particularly the longer rides, because you are out in the elements longer during a brevet than a marathon. They are generally farther from home. Running generally requires less gear, and I can more easily find marathons that start within Metro-, walking- or cycling distance of my house.

A brevet requires more gear than a marathon, and during a marathon you are highly unlikely to experience a mechanical (just your body breaking down!).

Marathons draw more people than a brevet. The marathon I ran this past weekend had a field of 300 people. That’s a tiny marathon, but it would make for a huge brevet. You will also find more women at a marathon than you will riding brevets, something that I hope will change over time.

Marathons have more of an event feel (except for Paris-Brest-Paris, which also has that incredible event vibe). That is not good or bad, it’s just different.

When I show up at a brevet, I generally recognize most of the other cyclists… and their bikes. It’s an intimate community. However, it’s also fun to show up at a marathon with a big field and be part of a big happening.

Just me and a few of my friends

Just me and a few of my friends at the Marine Corps Marathon

The marathon is a distance and activity that resonates with people. Marathons are on a lot of people’s bucket lists. Most people don’t think you’re off your rocker for wanting to run 26.2 miles at least once in your life. They think it’s amazing.

The appeal of randonneuring, on the other hand, is not widely understood and often gets one of many variations of the “you’re crazy” response when I try to explain it. Randonneuring’s attraction, and even its existence, is still mostly a secret shared among the relative few who do it.

I’m glad I don’t have to make a choice between randonneuring and running marathons, as I find that one makes me appreciate the other. Both of them, however, do share a few common elements.

They challenge me to set goals and work steadily toward them. Both are excellent endurance tests for my body and mind. I’ve met some good people through my runs and brevets. And every time I ride a brevet or run a marathon, even in the rough or uncomfortable moments, I’m reminded of what a gift it is to be alive and to directly experience this world.

What about you? I’m curious how you would compare the two.

Back on My Two Feet: The Potomac River Run Marathon

After doing the Rock and Roll Half-Marathon in mid-March, which I had originally planned to run as a full, I was eager to see if there might be another opportunity for me to try 26.2 miles in one go.

Lucky for me, the Potomac River Run Marathon was scheduled for May 5, a weekend of no brevets on Felkerino’s and my calendar and just under seven miles from home. Perfect! After a couple of weeks of mulling it over, I signed up.

Not quite as awesome to ride home, but still good.

Not quite as awesome to ride home, but still good. Photo by Felkerino

On race day, I threw my shoes in the Carradice (note to self: install those A530 pedals), put on my Sidi’s and a jacket, and rode over to the start at Fletcher’s Cove. One other participant had also biked there on a pretty Bridgestone XO-2, and we had a brief conversation about how we both worried about forgetting our running shoes and how awesome it was that we could ride to the start.

He also told me that he was not much of a runner, which was a lie, as he was one of the top two runners in the group of 7 a.m. starters. Needless to say, his bike was long gone by the time I returned to mine.

Bridgestone XO-2 and Surly LHT

The Potomac River Marathon is an out-and-back course along the C&O Canal that runners traverse twice in order to cover the requisite distance. That initially concerned me (for the first 13.1 miles, I would say) as double loops make DNFs easy.

I was determined to go the full distance, though, and spent the weekend mentally preparing accordingly. The day before the event Felkerino asked me, “Are you really doing this?”

“Absolutely,” I responded.

This marathon offered two start options, a 7:00 and an 8:00 a.m. start. While the route was closed to vehicular traffic (being that it was on the C&O), it was not closed to pedestrians and cyclists.

Knowing my pace and the popularity of the C&O this time of year, I opted for the 7 a.m. start. It was the way to go, as I noted more congestion along the trail the longer I was out. Fortunately, everyone who encountered us was considerate and we all made room for each other.

Weather was ideal for running. We began under overcast skies with temperatures in the 50s and a slight breeze from the east. As the morning hours passed, the sun came out and the temperatures had risen into the mid-sixties by the time I finished.

The marathon field was small, capped at 300 runners, and I loved the small marathon feel. There was no chip timing, and people used clipboards and pencils to jot down our passage at the end points of the course so as to make sure that no one did any shortcutting.

I crossed the starting line 15 seconds after the official 7 a.m. clock started. That’s a big change from recent runs like the Rock and Roll or Marine Corps Marathons, where I waited 30 minutes to cross the start line.

For the past month and a half, I’ve been doing shorter runs three times a week, generally just over three miles in length, at a pace faster than I’m comfortable. My hope with these runs was to increase my overall running pace for the marathon.

Because of brevets and century rides I did not do any long runs after the Rock and Roll Half. Fortunately my bike riding, cross- and strength-training in the gym, and runs during the week seemed to work.

I ended up finishing with an time of 4:05:1, more than twenty-five minutes faster than any of my previous run times.

Photo by Felkerino

Photo by Felkerino

Of course, it wasn’t only the training that helped me have a good run. I got lucky with the day, the course is flat flat flat, and my energy level was good. The pit stops were well-placed along the route, and they even had bananas during the second half, which provided great fuel for me.

I also wondered if it was easier on my body to do a course on a surface like the C&O towpath, which is mostly hard pack, as opposed to paved roads. With the exception of a little left shoulder pain (I’m not sure why this happens) and a slight ache in my right adductor I felt healthy and strong throughout.

I took my headphones along to entertain me for the second half of the run (when I worried I would start to sink into the marathon doldrums or a negative place) and I was extremely happy with my song choices for the day.

The double out-and-back proved not to be an issue. Seeing the other runners throughout inspired me to keep going. It also made me feel like we were a little running community, which was cool. There were no crowds aligning the route, but the volunteers were helpful and encouraging, telling us that we were all doing great. It was just the amount of crowd support I needed.

I kept waiting for my low moment to happen, but it never did. I thoroughly enjoyed my 26.2 miles on the towpath today. One of the volunteers actually commented on how I had smiled throught the whole race so my contentment must have been evident.

This marathon was simple and beautiful, with that strong sense of accomplishment that comes with finishing and knowing that you successfully tested your body. People cheer for you. Someone gives you a medal. You go home, feeling slightly stiff but lit up inside with elation. It’s how marathons should be.

Felkerino and his daughter rode out to meet me at the finish, and we rode home together. As we crossed the National Mall, we encountered the Baltimore Rando Ramblers, who were in the midst of their Monument to Monument century ride. Serendipity!

A serendiptous encounter with the Rando Ramblers

A serendiptous encounter with the Rando Ramblers. Photo by Felkerino

We rode with them down the Mall, and parted ways as they went off to Union Station for lunch and to make their way back to Baltimore.

What a beautiful day.

Shake It Off, Let It Go: Running Free

View toward the Capitol

Today I went running for the first time since I finished the fleche. I wanted to give my knees a couple of days to stop feeling wonky. You’re welcome, knees.

My weekday route is a fun three-mile stretch that takes me from the foot of the U.S. Capitol to the World War II Memorial and back. I pass the National Gallery of Art, the Air and Space Museum, the Museum of Natural History, and eventually I loop around the Washington Monument.

Summer-like sun shone down on the Mall this afternoon. I loped along into the headwind and twisted through tourists, cocooning myself with my headphones and a rockin’ playlist.

My bare legs and arms soaked in the glorious warmth of the crystal clear day and my feet scurried along the loose gravel surface of the path, weaving when necessary to avoid tourists and keep a steady pace.

I circled my way past the Washington Monument for the second time. I was briefly caught up in a throng of cherry blossom admirers, but soon broke free of their crush as they meandered toward the Tidal Basin. I felt the wind at my back, my feet quickened, and Usher’s “Numb” started playing in my ears.

“They say life is a battlefield
I say bring it on
If you wanna know how I feel
Live it ’til it’s gone”

I experienced an intense awareness of my legs’ movements as they pumped up, out, and down in time with the music. I have no idea what that the lyrics to that Usher song mean, but it has a great beat for running and despite its title to the contrary, to me it said, in this moment you are completely free and alive.

“You better recognize what is real
Cause forever is a long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long time”

Running is like no other activity. Completely unassisted as I move forward, the impact of my feet as they hit the ground and push away constantly drives home my effort. No coasting.

Unlike riding a bike, there is minimal gear. Running shoes. That’s it.

I often drill out my three-mile loop without much thought. It’s an appointment on my calendar sandwiched in between other appointments and obligations. Today was different. Every fiber in me filled with the exhilaration of being outdoors.

“Shake it off, let it go, I don’t care any more
Just go numb
You never know until you let go”

I was gangly and full of life, grateful to have enjoyed a brief spate in the open air. Completely free.

D.C. Rock & Roll 1/2 Marathon: Sometimes Halfway is Far Enough

This past weekend D.C. hosted the Rock & Roll Marathon and 1/2 Marathon. This event occurs right around St. Patrick’s Day as well as my birthday, and it has an incredibly festive feel. Runners dress in green, wear costumes, put on kilts, and sport an abnormal amount of plaid for a running event.

KISS, baby!

KISS, baby! Photo by Felkerino

The day turned out well for a romp around the city, with warmer temperatures than forecast (from high 40s at the start into the high-50s by the afternoon), light winds, and overcast skies that gave way to sun late morning. (Weather forecasting is becoming an issue around here.)

This juggler is a regular at many D.C.-area running events

This juggler is a regular at many D.C.-area running events. Photo by Felkerino

The Rock & Roll organizers made changes to this year’s route which took us off of narrower residential streets and allowed for the throngs of runners to spread out over the roads during the early miles. This made for much less elbow-to-elbow running than last year’s event, and allowed mid-packers like me to run with greater ease.

Photo by Felkerino

Photo by Felkerino

Originally signed up for the full marathon distance, I ended up running the half for a few different reasons. I have been doing some self-reflecting– and berating– about doing the half and not the full 26.2, but ultimately I’m glad about the decision I made.

Training Concerns. My training, while similar to previous years, did not leave me confident about the marathon distance. I was still a little freaked out about how the top of my foot had started hurting at the end of the Marine Corps Marathon in October, and I did not want a repeat of that.

Even with no current pain in the area and a change in shoes, I still lacked full confidence in my body to go the distance, and felt I had not put it through its paces to best prepare myself.

Fatigue. I switched jobs late last year, and I can see that it is taking me time to adjust to the new environment and work. Friday arrives and I feel more tired than normal. That was the case for me the Friday prior to Saturday’s run.

I attribute this fatigue my new routine and work expectations, and imagine it will dissipate as I become more accustomed to them. It surprised me how much a new desk job can still impact my energy levels, but there you have it.

Memorial Bridge: crowded but manageable. Photo by Felkerino

Memorial Bridge: crowded but manageable. Photo by Felkerino

The Bail-Out Option Exists. Unlike Marine Corps, which is solely a full marathon, Rock and Roll offers a half and a full distance. As I was picking up my bib number and shirt, I saw a sign noting that if marathoners wanted to change to the half, all they had to do was run the half. I examined the race t-shirt and noticed that it said both half and full so I did not even need to burn the race shirt if I opted for the shorter distance.

I went home and told Felkerino that the run organizers allowed marathoners to make last-minute switches to the half. He looked at me and said, “I see you are already giving yourself options.” I suppose I was.

I Double-Booked My Weekend. After registering for the Rock & Roll marathon, I also signed up for WABA’s Vasa Ride. That meant outings and early rises on both Saturday and Sunday.

As I ran, I found my mind drifting to next day’s Vasa Ride and how much I was looking forward to riding it on tandem with Felkerino. While the Vasa Ride is a casual event where there are no official finishers, I had never participated in it before. I wanted my legs to have pop in them on Sunday so that I could enjoy the ride and day out with my husband, as opposed to feel worn out and uncomfortable.

Heading toward the finish.

Heading toward the finish.

The Bail-Out Option Appeals! All along the half-marathon route, spectators cheered us. As we neared the 12-mile mark, people began shouting variations of “Almost there!”

As the split for the marathon and half-marathon approached, I could hear the pulsing music from RFK Stadium (the finishing area) as well as the PA system’s broadcast of Rock & Roll half-marathon finishers crossing the finish line.

From past experience, I knew the half and full marathon split was a tough one. Almost 20,000 people ran the half-marathon this year, compared to 3,550 people who ran the full 26.2 miles. After the half-marathoners split off, it’s a lonely couple of marathon miles.

In part, that is nice because you don’t have to worry about crowded roads, but the excited crowds diminish, the course becomes quieter, you start another 13.1 miles, and you have more time in that quiet open space to contemplate exactly what you’re doing. It’s tough mentally, at least for me.

None of that appealed to me on Saturday so I made the split for the half-marathon finish and called it a day. As I crossed the finish line in front of loads of cheering people, I still had pep in my legs and a smile on my face. I realized that I experienced almost no discomfort over the course of the run. Those are all things I like to have at the end of an event. And, as I wrote, the Vasa Ride ended up being just great, which I doubt would have been the case had I continued running.

Also, Saturday’s run served as a good reminder of both the physical and mental aspects that go into these endeavors. Yes, it’s important to be trained so as to avoid pain and injury, but mental focus is also critical. Fatigue from work interfered with getting into the mindset I wanted for the weekend. Double-booking my weekend distracted me. I let the bail-out option seep into my mind and linger there too long. As I’ve said before, when I start an event, I want to be all in for whatever distance I’m doing, and I definitely was not in that place on Saturday.

Nevertheless, I was thrilled that I was able to be part of D.C.’s Rock & Roll festivities. No, I did not go the full distance as I originally planned, but I had to concede that I did not have it in me on Saturday. Sometimes halfway is far enough, I thought to myself as I finished.

I had a fantastic time running 13.1 miles and touring parts of the city that I rarely see (like Harvard Street and that hill up to Calvert from Rock Creek Parkway!). As I crossed the finish line, I told myself to make sure to sign up next year. The entry fee is much higher than a brevet, but it’s an event too much fun to miss.

Pitter Patter: Cold Winter Days in D.C.

A midday run on the Mall. A bitingly cold commute to work.

The city looks different, feels distinct over a light powdering of snow.

image

Tourists head indoors, to museums and gift shops. Runners dwindle, leaving only those undeterred by the chill.

The cold shocks me initially. A few steps and warmth returns, allowing me to assess my surroundings and appreciate the day.

Pitter patter. Pitter patter. My shoes fall softly on the snow-dusted ground. Their sound is meditative.

image

Faster runners pass me. My path intersects with others approaching from the opposite direction. Many of us smile as we pass or give a wave from the hip.

I don’t know where these feelings of fellowship originate. Maybe it’s the manner in which these conditions invigorate us.

Ironic, I think, that these chilly winter days make us warm to each other. I continue on my way, stepping lightly. Pitter patter. Pitter patter.

I’m Not Training; I’m Having Fun

Panda

Earlier this week I read a brief but informative article in the New York Times called “Training Insights from Star Athletes.”  The Times interviewed three elite athletes who discussed various facets of their training, including the importance of making it focused and structured.

When Felkerino and I agreed to ride Paris-Brest-Paris (PBP) in 2011, I spent much of the two years before it doing what I would call more training-type things. I worked deliberately on strengthening my upper and lower body in my gym workouts, bought a heart rate monitor for doing intervals in spin classes and pushing myself to Zone whatever in cardio classes, and developed a weekend ride training program designed for Felkerino and I to peak at PBP.

As I read the Times piece it dawned on me that since PBP I have not really been training, even though I am still engaged in activities that are similar to those I was doing in 2010 and ’11.

I still go to the gym several times a week. I hit a spin class or two and use my heart rate monitor to help with my effort. I ride my bike regularly and go long on the weekends. I even fit in a run here and there. But these activities are not training.

My weekly routine is now geared around being active for the fun of it. “Fun” is a nonspecific term so let me break down what it means to me. For me, fun is:

  • Riding a winter century with Felkerino and feeling like it did not shatter me.
  • Watching myself improve when I put my mind to it. For example, this year I’ve gotten a thrill out of seeing the increase in the number of pushups I can do and testing how long I can hold a plank. I’m still pretty bad at pushups, but I’m getting better!
  • The pleasant rise of my heart rate rise in a gym class, knowing that I can keep pushing myself even harder.
  • Doing jumping jacks as fast as I can. For some reason, I am really into jumping jacks these days.
  • Going for a steady 10-mile run and not hurting during or after it.
  • Sweating from the effort of a good workout.
  • Staying healthy with no other specific end-goal in mind.

Even though I have made it part of my daily routine, working out does not feel boring or stale. Lately, being active is when I feel most authentic and real. I’m physically engaged from head to toe and my mind elevates into a happy and sometimes meditative state.

Working out unleashes my joy for life.

When the time comes that I feel a need to return to more focused training, I will buckle down and do it. For now I’m doing it for fun and loving it.

A Run in Rock Creek with Ultrarunnergirl

Rock Creek 2

A couple of weeks ago I received an email from my friend Kirstin, aka Ultrarunnergirl, inviting me to go trail running with her in Rock Creek Park.

Her timing could not have been better, as I had just been lamenting my “story of sameness” and the need to mix it up with other activities this year. I immediately responded yes.

Even though I do some road running, I seldom run trails and have never done so in Rock Creek Park, which is an easy five-mile ride from my house.

Rock Creek Park is a popular urban park nestled in the middle of Washington, D.C. Even though I have ridden my bike plenty of times through Rock Creek (the main road is closed to vehicular traffic on weekends, making it a weekend haunt for some of the local cyclists), I had no idea what lay beyond the pavement.

I had spied some of the trails from the main road, but had no idea where they went. Given my poor sense of direction, I stuck to the pavement whenever I visited Rock Creek. I did not want to end up lost in the middle of the city.

Until last weekend, that is. Ultrarunnergirl graciously guided me off the pavement into this urban oasis.

According to the National Park Service, the park is technically about three square miles, but it seems to expand once you enter it. Bigger on the inside, a Dr. Who fan might say. I don’t know how the national parkland is measured, but I’m pretty sure that the amount of overall green space we call Rock Creek is significantly larger than the three square miles cited by the Park Service.

Rock Creek 4

Trails abound in Rock Creek. They twist throughout the park and converge with each other only to wind away again. The terrain was rolling throughout our run, more than I anticipated. I did not summit any mountains during my outing with Ultrarunnergirl, but my legs told me that I climbed a few real hills.

The paths were not overly technical, which allowed me to follow Ultrarunnergirl’s footsteps without too much trouble. Strategically placed stones made creek crossings manageable, and I am happy to report that I did not fall once.

It was an odd feeling that a place so known to me was simultaneously foreign. Running the trails in Rock Creek was something like going down the rabbit hole and emerging in an urban Wonderland.

Kirstin was an ideal guide. She slowed her pace so I could keep up with her. She explained how the trails worked and interconnected. She routed us over a comfortable distance so that I felt like I had a great run, but was not uncomfortable or physically hurting at the end.

Rock Creek 3

There’s nothing better than a friend who says “we should do blah blah blah sometime” and then follows through so that you both actually do it.

I felt so happy about discovering a new place in the city and for trying something new. It was a beautiful day to be a runner, and I look forward to my next visit to the Rock Creek trails. Thanks for being my trail guide and taking me beyond the pavement, Ultrarunnergirl!

Running Away from Sandy: 2012 Marine Corps Marathon

Yesterday I lined up with more than 23,500 people to participate in my last big event for 2012: the Marine Corps Marathon.

When I was deciding on the things I wanted to accomplish this year (in terms of sporty type stuff), I narrowed it down to the following:

  1. Rock ‘n Roll Marathon (March);
  2. Super Randonneur Series (March-June)
  3. Colorado High Country 1200K (July)
  4. Eight-day bike tour of Southern Virginia (August)
  5. Marine Corps Marathon (October)

Given the other events leading up to Marine Corps, my motivation ebbed when the time to train for it arrived. This, combined with a couple of other life events, made gearing up for the marathon a little more difficult.

My training for brevets and marathons generally centers around two main goals: finish comfortably and within the time limits. That is, I don’t want to finish injured and I also want to make sure that no one is tearing down the course just behind me.

With that in mind, while I wasn’t feeling the fever to train, I did prepare for the marathon distance. I wasn’t certain how comfortably I would finish this time, given that I had not cross-trained to my satisfaction nor done the number of mid-week runs that I hoped, but I was mostly physically ready for the event when it arrived.

Just me and a few of my friends

I approached the starting line yesterday morning a little freaked out. The day was cloudy, the wind breezy compared to the calm days before, and the sky was spitting. The first signs of tropical storm Sandy. While the forecast noted that Sandy was not to arrive until later in the evening, the storm was on a lot of people’s minds.

The sheer numbers of people running also intimidated. Marine Corps is the kind of run where, if you are a middle-of-the-pack runner like me, you constantly have to navigate around people. Despite the marathon distance, so many people participate that the course does not spread out much and it’s wall-to-wall people from start to finish. While that is one of the aspects that makes the Marine Corps Marathon so much fun, as a person accustomed to participating in smaller events it takes some mental adaptation.

After the starting gun went off, I waited over eight minutes to cross the official start line. Thank goodness for chip times! I wasn’t really running for a specific time, but I still want all the credit I can get. As expected, the run was crowded and crazy. I tried to dodge through runners, thinking that it would help me somehow, but all it really did (at least at the beginning) was make me spend unnecessary energy. In a crowd that big there’s only so much you can do to get into your own rhythm. The start was about having patience and waiting until things spread out just enough to allow me to find my own space in the field.

The Marine Corps and other volunteers do a fantastic job supporting the marathon. With water and Gatorade stops every two miles, I did not worry about carrying my own water and stayed well-hydrated throughout. They also offered two fruit stops along the way, AND a Clif shot stop, in addition to a Jelly Belly Sport Beans stop. The Clif shots and Jelly Bellys tend not to agree with my stomach so I stayed away from them and brought my own Accelerade gel instead, but the fruit was a welcome treat.

Hey, this is pretty fun!

The level of support from the crowd is pretty incredible. Except for a few places on the run (e.g., the segments along the GW Parkway, Canal Road, and Hains Point), people are lining the course and cheering the entire time. I love it. For some reason, the marathon really resonates with people.

Lots of spectators also carried homemade signs. Some were more standard, like the “Who needs toenails?,” “Pain is temporary, pride is forever.” Others were definitely very point-in-time, 2012. A few of the favorites I recall are:

  • “Run! Sandy is following you!”
  • A sign at mile three that read: “If you were Paul Ryan, you’d be done by now.”
  • “Beat Frankenstorm!”
  • “Stop feeling awful and start feeling awesome!”
  • Swim Bike Run Only!”

When I stopped fretting about my place in the masses and started looking around, I started to relax. It was emotionally moving to see all the people running their marathon in memory of someone. A series of photos of fallen Marines from the past few years lined part of Hains Point. People ran with photos of loved ones affixed to their shirts, honoring those they had lost.

In addition, all the parts of the course are familiar to me, but the marathon sews them together in a unique way. It’s a rare treat to run places that you would and could not otherwise, like Canal Road, the George Washington Parkway, and the 14th Street Bridge.

Time out for a photo opp!

It’s also a thrill be part of such a huge local event. I fed off the energy of the spectators and enjoyed each step as much as possible. Felkerino, Lane, and Dagny came out to cheer for me at a couple of different places. I ran into #fridaycoffeeclub friend, Chris, as I passed through the Palisades. At mile 22 or so, Ray, who is known as “Flag Man” and is one of the Marine Corps Marathon stalwarts, asked me to carry his flag for a couple tenths of a mile. On my way home, a few people shouted out “Congratulations!” as they passed. I was proud to live in Washington, D.C., and so happy to be taking part in the day.

For most of the marathon, I felt good physically and none of the owies that pestered me off and on throughout training became an issue. At around mile 22, something painful happened to the top of my left foot, an area that had not bothered me at all until the marathon. Isn’t that how it goes? All the things you think could start hurting are fine, and it’s something completely unexpected. It didn’t hamper me too much, but it definitely was what I call “bad” pain, as opposed to fatigue pain.

Overall, though, it was a fine day on my two feet (especially my right one, ha ha!). Sandy, while making her presence known via the cloudy and breezy day, was not a factor; people treated us like rock stars; and my base training allowed me to fully enjoy the experience. My time ended up at 4:42:50. Not fast, but I met my goal of finishing comfortably (except for the foot thing) and before they reopened to course to vehicular traffic.

Receiving our medals for finishing

My Marine Corps Marathon finish also marked the successful completion of my major 2012 goals. I am pleased that I finished two marathons in the same year as a 1200K (a first for me), and I am so thankful the year worked out so that I could do all the bike and running events I hoped. I’m going to celebrate with a couple of victory laps around the block, as soon as Sandy goes away.

Benefits of Tracking the Miles

I grew up watching my dad, a runner, track his miles. He always took the time to note how far he ran, the day’s temperature, wind direction, and a few other details about his run. It seemed only natural, then, when I started running (and later riding) to keep a mileage log.

Tracking the Miles with a Mileage Log

I recently read a few pieces about the limitations of tracking miles (Bicycle Bug recently penned a good one), and I agree that ultimately the overall ride experience is most important. It can also be toxic when counting miles morphs into an obsessive pursuit.

Overall, though, I like tabulating the miles I ride and run. My mileage logs have also taught me a thing or two, which is something I did not expect when I first began jotting down my workouts.

I keep my mileage log simple, possibly too simple for many people. I use one of those small paper datebook calendars. Yes, it’s old school. I prefer to keep track of these things on paper.

In the space provided for each day, I jot down my ride or run with a brief summary, e.g., “ride to work plus trip to Whole Foods and back - 11 miles.” I will also write down those times where I find my energy to be low or if a ride or run went exceptionally well. Other than that, it’s basic mileage and route. If my activity for the day included a workout at the gym, I’ll also note that.

For a year or so, I tried Daily Mile, but it didn’t work for me. I liked the social networking side of it, but disliked storing my information on-line. It also brought out this unhealthy competitive side of me where I started pressuring myself to chase miles so that I would show up on leaderboards.  I retreated from that and went back to my paper-based ways.

(c) Bill Beck

Even by tracking the most basic data, I’ve been surprised by the patterns that have emerged from it over time and seeing how it correlates with how I’m feeling.

For example, I’ve noticed that my riding typically trails off in September. Both September of this year and last year I felt burnt out from cycling. A review of my logs from 2012 and 2011 showed that April through August are usually my biggest months for cycling. The higher miles and greater focus on cycling during those months probably contribute to my September burnout.

During September of this year I also felt exceptionally tired. It seemed like I was getting enough sleep each night so what was up? In looking at my mileage, I realized that my running miles are up and trips to the gym more frequent this year. Those two activities, in addition to the bicycling, have probably built up some fatigue in me.

Mileage logs also help with figuring out how to train. I disregarded my running base when increasing my mileage earlier this year, and now I’m dealing with knee pain which I believe was caused by my doing too much too fast too soon after our big months of bike riding. Mileage log fail? No, the mileage log clearly shows where I went awry.

As I reflect more on my mileage, I realize I’m not tracking enough information regarding my strength workouts. I have a sense of my progress (or decline) in this area but would like to know more about it on paper. Tracking my strength workouts better would also help me combat plateaus and figure out if I’m missing any muscle groups.

I’m having fun supplementing my cycling and running with weights, but would like to be a little more strategic about what I’m doing when I’m at the gym. If you have any suggestions for a good and easy way to track weight workouts, please let me know in the comments or send me a note.

Running! (c) Aaron Schwartzbard

For some people, mileage logs might not be viewed as a good use of time, and I agree that it is not critical to have numbers support how your feeling, physically or otherwise. If you’re tired, you’re tired. If your knee hurts, a mileage log won’t change that. However, mileage logs have helped me understand why I might be feeling a particular way and have also been useful in shaping my future physical activities.

I like seeing how my rides and runs fit into all of the competing priorities of any particular year. Watching how my activity levels ebb and flow over time and why is fascinating. As long as I continue to glean these kinds of additional insights, I will probably continue to use one.

What did I miss? Other good reasons for keeping a log and/or other information that might be helpful to track?