Learning From My Mistakes: Sometimes Less Is More

One of my resolutions this year was to complete a 30-day hot yoga challenge, and I had planned to start my challenge tomorrow. But yesterday morning while I was at the gym going in circles on the boring elliptical while wishing I was outside running in the perfect spring weather, I realized I don’t want to do yoga everyday for 30 days straight. I’d rather run.

Maybe it’s the perfect running weather or that I’m not stressed about training for a marathon and haven’t run farther than 8 miles, but whatever the reason (I imagine it’s a combination of the above), I’d rather run than go to yoga.

For some runners, that may be a daily reality. But for me, it is not, and I generally enjoy the act of yoga more than the act of running. I believe there are two types of marathon runners: The minority who enjoy the act of running, and the rest of us who love what running brings to our lives but don’t necessarily enjoy every run. I fall into the second category.

Sure there are moments of “OMG I love to run!” but those are few compared to the “Holy hell, running is hard!” I keep at it because those moments of running bliss make the tough moments/hours worthwhile, and because running makes me a better, more fulfilled human being.

Back to my original point (not sure if this post has one?): I’m indefinitely postponing my 30-day yoga challenge for the simple reason that I just don’t want to do it.

There are times in life when more is better. Would I rather have eight ounces of Nutella frozen yogurt or four? Eight, obviously. But yoga is not the same as fro yo, and as I learned last year when I ran races four weekends in a row, too much of a good thing ain’t always that great. By my fourth race, I wasn’t excited to run and just wanted to get the stupid race over, and I ran my worst half marathon of the year. Some runners enjoy racing that often, but I do not. Lesson learned.

At this point in my training/life, I would not enjoy doing yoga everyday. I would resent yoga and would be annoyed that it was taking time away that I could spend doing other things (running, playing tennis, sitting on my ass, etc.). It would become an item on my daily to do list — on par with cleaning the shower — not something that I enjoy doing. And I genuinely enjoy yoga, so I don’t want to eff that up with some silly challenge.

After writing this, I realized this might be my most pointless post ever (sorry!). But I guess the one takeaway is that more is not always better. Unless we’re talking about Nutella frozen yogurt — in which case, more is always better.

A New Normal

The first few weeks after a marathon are always a little weird. After spending 16+ weeks training and spending most of my time focusing on a specific goal, it feels weird to have so much free time. This going home right after work thing and having time to get mani/pedis and play tennis with my friends — is this how normal people live?

To add to the weird factor, I normally have another marathon looming in the not too far horizon; but for the first time, I’m taking a significant amount of time off (eight months) before I start my next training cycle so I can focus on getting faster. This means no daunting, time-consuming 20 mile runs — just tempo runs, speed work and the occasional short long run (max of 15 miles) so I can maintain some endurance. I took eight days off from running after Eugene, and now I’m enjoying stress-free runs as my body continues to heal. It feels nice to just run and focus on recovery without stressing about starting a new training cycle.

I’ve come to love and embrace the marathon lifestyle, but I’m pretty excited about my new normal. I’ve trained through the last two summers, and I hated it both times. Summer is the best time of the year in Seattle, but training made me hate our beautiful weather.

This is mainly because I’m not a huge fan of waking up at 5am on Saturdays so I can get my long run in before it gets hot. Nope, not a fan at all.

This weekend I took advantage of my new normal by strolling through the Farmers’ Market on Saturday and celebrating my bday/mother’s day on Sunday.

As I mentioned in my last post, I have thoughts about Eugene. A lot of thoughts, actually, but I don’t want to bore you. Here are my main takeaways from my Eugene meltdown:

1. I need to have a strong base BEFORE I start training for my next marathon.
My speed and endurance sucked when I started this training cycle, and I spent the first half of training building a base from which I could train. When I start training for Eugene 2014, I want to have a strong base so I can hit the ground running (ha) on Day 1.

2. I need to run my long runs faster.
I ran almost all of my long runs at a 10 min/mile pace. No wonder I got so tired at mile 18 — my body wasn’t used to sustaining a 9 minute mile pace for such a long time. I’ve learned this lesson in the past, but now there is no denying this training mistake.

3. I need to become mentally stronger.
When the marathon got tough, I fell apart. I went from “woohoo! I’m with the 4-hour pacer — I can totally do this!” to “Eff? You’ve got to be kidding me — another 6 miles? Marathons are dumb. Why do I PAY to be in so much pain? Sub 4 ain’t happening, might as well walk” in a grand total of five minutes.

There was no fight; I mentally collapsed (FAST) and gave up. No matter how well I train, miles 20-26.2 are always going to hurt like hell, which is why I need to practice being mentally strong and pushing through the pain during tough training runs. It’s naive for me to think that I can just “suck it up” and push through the pain at mile 20 of a marathon; I need to practice dealing with pain and discomfort so I’m ready for the final 10k.

4. I need to get faster.
As soon as I crossed the finish line in Eugene, I had one simple resolve: Must. Get. Faster. I felt similarly after finishing the Honeywagon Half Marathon with a stupid six second PR, but I could do little about it since I was halfway through Eugene training and needed to balance building endurance with trying to get faster. Now I have the gift of 7.5 months of no marathon training, during which I can focus on speed. And, let’s face it — running fast is much more fun than running slow.

What’s next?

Lots of half marathons!

I love marathons, I really do, but half marathons are a much more manageable distance for which to train. You don’t have to go on crazy long training runs and they don’t consume your life. I also recover from half marathons within a few days (unlike marathons, which take me a full month to recover), so I can quickly bounce back from a race and resume training.

My next race is the Rock N Roll Seattle Half Marathon on June 22. I was originally registered for the full, but I wised up and switched my registration to the half. Although it would be cool to be one of those people who can run marathons for fun, I’m not there yet. Not even close. Even running a marathon for fun would wipe me out and take time away that I could spend on getting faster. At this point in my running, getting faster trumps running a marathon just for the sake of running another marathon.

My plan is to train through this race and use it as a training run to prepare for my goal races this summer: See Jane Run Half on July 14 and the Labor Day Half Marathon on September 2.

Oh, and I’m getting married in less than three months, so I should probably stop being a deadbeat bride and get on top of this wedding planning business…

Eugene Marathon Race Recap

Spoiler alert: sub 4 did not go how I had hoped. Just like in Vancouver, I started to unravel at mile 18 and totally fell apart at mile 20. I’m proud of my first 20 miles, and I’m OK with how I ran/walked the last six miles. But I’m disappointed with my attitude in the last 6.2 miles. I was like a small child out there, angry and pouting that her parents won’t take her to McDonald’s for a Happy Meal. I was not my best self, and for that I am disappointed.

After a restless night of sleep, my alarm woke me up bright and early at 4:30am. Dad and I ate, got ready, and headed to the shuttle a little after 5:30 am. We arrived at the race at 6am, which gave us plenty of time for gear check and to use the porta potties twice before the race started at 7am.

We started the race right outside Hayward Field, which I really enjoyed. I did not enjoy, however, that we started too far back in the pack so my first mile clocked in slower than I wanted as we weaved our way through runners.

Mile 1: 9:37

I was a total head case during the first six miles, and I was really scared of what the day would bring. My breathing felt a little off, and the miles weren’t as effortless as I had hoped they would be.

Mile 2: 9:06
Mile 3: 9:05
Mile 4: 9:10
Mile 5: 8:57
Mile 6:  8:58

At the 10k point, I had an epiphany. I thought back to the Runner’s World article about Kara Goucher and Shalane Flanagan. Right before the start of the 2012 women’s marathon at the Olympic Games, Shalane pumped Kara up by saying: “Let’s f*ck this shit up.” Vulgar? Yes, if you’re not a fan of F bombs. Helpful? Absolutely.

I drew strength from knowing that even crazy fast elite athletes get scared, and I told myself: run smart, Megan, not scared. In order for sub 4 to happen, I knew I had to pace myself and run a smart race. And from miles 6-18, that’s exactly what I did.

Mile 7: 8:52
Mile 8: 9:03
Mile 9: 9:23
Mile 10: 9:00
Mile 11: 8:58

Since we had started pretty far back, I didn’t see the 4 hour pacer until about mile 12. His blue and yellow balloons bobbing in the distance were a beacon of hope, a symbol of what I wanted so desperately to accomplish. For a few miles, I actually believed it was going to happen.

We hit the halfway point right under 2 hours. I knew that I would have to negative split — something I’ve never done before — to get sub 4, but I still believed I was running a smart race and might be able to pull it off.

Mile 12: 8:57
Mile 13: 9:26

Mile 14 was a bit of a deja vu from the 2012 Vancouver Marathon, as Dad had to stop and walk. With Dad’s blessing, I forged ahead and slowly started closing the gap between the 4-hour pacer and myself.

Mile 14: 8:50
Mile 15: 9:01

By mile 16, I had closed the gap and was 10 feet behind the big group following the 4-hour pacer. It felt good to be with this group, but I was getting tired, and I was worried how I would feel in a few more miles.

I hung with the 4-hour pacer until mile 19/20, when I hit the wall. As I slowed down and his blue and yellow balloons faded into the distance, I mentally collapsed and gave in to the pain. My neck was so tight, my shoulders ached, and my right quad really freaking hurt.

Mile 16: 8:48
Mile 17: 9:00
Mile 18: 9:07
Mile 19: 9:14
Mile 20: 9:41

For the first time ever in a marathon, I just got really angry. While on one of my many walk breaks, I took some GU Chomps out of my pocket. I ate one, and I hastily threw the other one on the sidewalk — not unlike how a small child spits out her steamed broccoli at dinner. The GU Chomp tasted like crap, and I was so frustrated that once again I was falling apart at mile 20. Running another 6.2 miles seemed unbearable, especially when I wasn’t going to reach my goal.

For a few minutes I contemplated going for a PR, but I didn’t have the fight left in me. Anything other than sub 4 would be a disappointment, and I wasn’t willing to suffer additional pain for a 30-second PR. So for the next two miles, I shuffled/walked and was a total angry mess.

Mile 21: 9:30
Mile 22: 11:05

A little before mile 23, wonderful strangers not associated with the marathon had set up a beer and water station. I’ve seen beer on marathon courses before but had never drank any. I almost ran past them, but as I approached the table, I figured what the hell, might as well at least try to have some fun with this.

The stranger graciously gave me a glass of beer, and I thanked him. It was probably Bud Light, but it was one of the tastiest beers I’ve had. Shortly after drinking my beer, I took another walk break and found myself walking next to another runner. I asked him how he was doing, and he told me that it was his first marathon and he had hit the wall at mile 21, so he was taking lots of walk breaks. Despite hitting the wall and slowing his pace, he said he was going to reach his goal of finishing under 4:20. I then looked at my watch and proclaimed: “That’s awesome! In fact, you should even finish under 4:10.”

We chatted a little longer and then I wished him well and continued on. He ended up finishing right behind me, so he finished sub 4:10 — that was probably the highlight of my entire race (that and the beer).

Mile 23: 10:34
Mile 24: 10:15
Mile 25: 10:50

Shortly before entering Hayward Field for the final stretch, Eye of the Tiger came onto my iPod Shuffle. I smiled and thought how perfect that was, but it did little to motivate me. If Eye of the Tiger and finishing on Hayward Track don’t pump you up, nothing will.

Mile 26: 10:36

Finishing on Hayward Field was nothing how I had pictured in my head. As I moseyed onto the track, instead of feeling excited, proud or happy, I was annoyed that I still had to run half way around the track. Seriously, what the eff is wrong with me? I made my way across the finish line and for the first time ever in a marathon, I felt nothing as I crossed that glorious finish line. I was happy to be done running, but I felt little else. I feel like an asshole for writing that. Finishing a marathon – no matter what your time is or if you reach your goals — is an accomplishment and is worth being proud of.

I’m disappointed in myself for having this asshole, ungrateful attitude. I spent 18 weeks training for this day, and even though it didn’t go how I wanted, I should have been proud of myself for finishing with my second fastest time.

Last .27: 9:17

After finishing, I hung out in the finishers area for a little while before making my way out where John was waiting for me.

I told John about my race as we waited for Dad to finish. I assumed he wasn’t far behind me, so I got pretty worried as time passed and Dad was nowhere to be found. I eventually looked up his bib number on a computer they had on site and realized he hadn’t finished yet. We walked over to the track so we could see him finish, and I was worried he had re-injured his hamstring.

Shortly after we got to the track, I saw Dad enter Hayward Field. We cheered and yelled, and it reminded me of my younger years when I spent many Sundays cheering for Dad at his marathons. But for the first time spectating one of Dad’s marathons, I intimately knew the pain and fatigue he felt as he took the final steps in his 26.2-mile journey.

I have a lot of thoughts about Sunday’s marathon, which I’ll save for a later post. I will say that the most disappointing part of Sunday was the brutal realization that I’m not where I want to be with my running. So rather than just jump into another marathon training cycle, I’m taking the next eight months to focus on speed and improve my half marathon time.

Eugene is an awesome course and primed for PRs, and I’ve already decided that my next marathon will be the 2014 Eugene Marathon. I need some sweet redemption in Tracktown USA and a more epic finish on Hayward Field.

Pre Eugene Marathon: It’s Go Time. Almost.

I’m resting in my hotel bed — nervous and anxious – and obsessively updating my running playlist. Yep, it’s the day before a marathon. Adding to my normal pre-race anxiety, my body has felt out of whack all week as I’ve recovered from that stupid bug. I felt defeated for most of the week, positive that my body was failing me when I needed it most. I busted my butt for 18 weeks, and I was angry that those 18 weeks could be for nothing. But I’m feeling much better now and seem (fingers crossed!) to be back to normal, and I’m hopeful tomorrow will be a good day. I just need to trust in my training and do the very best I can tomorrow. Hopefully my very best starts with a 3.

John, Dad and I made the trek to Eugene on Friday. This morning we went to the expo and picked up our race bibs and shirts.

Got my bib!

Dad signing the Boston banner.

This is the first time I’ve traveled to a marathon two days before the race, and it’s much more relaxing than traveling the day before. Poor John is pretty bored though.

After picking up our bibs, we drove the first 16 miles of the race. There are a few small hills, but it’s mostly flat with a lot of long straightaways. Should be a good course to go for a PR!

Speaking of PRs, I only have one time-based goal: Finish sub 4. My other goals are to run a smart race, thank the volunteers and spectators, and take in the experience of finishing on Hayward Field. I’ve visualized myself finishing on Hayward Field dozens of times, and tomorrow I finally get to do it!

Less than 16 hours! Now back to perfecting my running playlist…

Time to Get My Head on Straight

Holy crap, I’m running a marathon on Sunday. THIS SUNDAY.

Sub-4-or-bust attempt #2 is just a few days away. Right now that goal seems pretty impossible. And scary.

It’s funny how I can spend 18 weeks working toward this goal, and now I don’t feel ready. More than just my typical taper crazies, I’m scared. Scared of not finishing under four hours. Scared of completely falling apart. Scared of the pain. Scared of Eugene not meeting my expectations. Just plain scared.

Thanks goodness for these inspirational quotes; they make me feel totally normal for being a total headcase.

Part (but certainly not all) of the reason I’m scared is that I got sick this weekend with that stupid bug/virus thing I had in March. I’m feeling much better and I’m sure I’ll be fine by Sunday, but getting sick so close to the marathon is disconcerting.

I didn’t feel well for a couple days last week, but I didn’t acknowledge I was sick until after I ran a 15k on Saturday. When I signed up for the 15k, I had hoped it would leave me feeling confident and ready, but instead it just left me full of doubt.

My goal for the 15k was to run even marathon-paced splits to practice honing in on marathon pace. If you just look at my mile splits, you’d think I did a decent job of running even splits. I could have done better, but overall I’m happy with my even pacing.

(9:03, 8:55, 8:58, 8:56, 8:52, 8:49, 9:05, 9:00, 8:51, 7:38) *7:38 was for final .25.

Unfortunately, what my Garmin can’t tell you is that it took a lot of effort to run those paces. I was constantly staring at my Garmin and adjusting my pace to get right in the happy spot of 8:55-9:05. I blame this partly on the course: the constant curves and changes of direction made it difficult to just run and lock into my pace. The other issue was my breathing. My legs were fresh and marathon pace felt easy, but my breathing was way off.

I worked too hard to maintain what should have been an easy pace to run 9 miles, and I knew something was wrong as soon as I crossed the finish line. I ran a conservative race and by no means raced that race, so I should have felt fine after finishing. Instead, I had a bad headache, and I felt disoriented, exhausted and very weak.

I went home and rested/napped for over five hours. I had no energy and felt terrible – my entire body ached and I was so exhausted. Just like last time, the bug climaxed on Monday with painful stomach cramps and many trips to the bathroom. Not fun. I drank a lot of pepto on Monday — good thing I like how that stuff tastes!

Now that I’m just a few days away from Eugene, I need to get my head on straight. I need to stop letting myself be paralyzed by my fear and start believing in myself and my training.

When I compare this training cycle to my other four training cycles, I know I’m more prepared than I’ve ever been. My training plan didn’t go perfectly according to plan, but I logged 567 miles and 56 hours on my yoga mat. My legs and body are ready to go 26.2 miles, and the next few days are all about continuing to rest and making sure my head is ready to go as well.

Four sleeps!

Eugene Marathon: Tales From Taper

With my heart still aching over what happened on Monday,  it’s been pretty easy to keep my taper crazies under control and not stress about Eugene. I’ve put in the work and whatever happens in Eugene is OK with me. I hope I break 4 hours and will do everything in my power to reach that goal, but it won’t be the end of the world if things don’t go according to plan.

I just feel incredibly fortunate that I can run. Fast or slow, I’m grateful that I’m healthy and get to run 26.2 miles around “Track Town USA” and finish on the historic Hayward Field.

I thought this quote Monica posted on Eat Run Repeat (while not totally relevant to this post) was worth sharing.

Eugene has plans to honor Boston at the event, and I’m grateful to participate and honor Boston in a small way. Like so many runners, this terrible event has only strengthened my desire to run Boston. I want it more than ever.

I’ve got a lot of work to do before I can even think about qualifying for Boston, and I first need to make it through this taper and Eugene.

During taper you often doubt yourself and wish you had worked harder, missed less workouts. Even though my taper crazies are more controlled than normal, I certainly feel all that doubt and regret.

February was a bad month. I struggled; I didn’t want to run. The whole thing seemed too hard. Too impossible. And that crappy month is why I’m more proud of this training cycle than any other training cycle.

Unlike my past two Portland training cycles when I pretty much just gave up with two months to go, I dug deep and pushed hard to regain my momentum. I knew that I didn’t want Eugene to be another Portland. I knew I would regret not training as hard as I can to give sub4 a real shot. So I sucked it up and in the last four weeks of training (before taper) I logged just a hair shy of 200 miles. This may not be a lot for some folks, but it’s a lot for me. And as a result, I’m fitter, stronger and ready to finally break into the dang 3s.

But as I said earlier, I’m not going to freak out if I don’t finish sub4. When I ran Vancouver last year, I was totally insane with my pacing. I wore two pacing bands and spent the entire race doing math and figuring out when I would finish. I wasn’t living in the moment — I was only focusing on the end goal. Funny, despite all that, I didn’t even pace myself all that great and ran the first half faster than I should have. And I missed my goal by three minutes and 24 seconds. Maybe there’s a lesson to be learned from that?

I have a race plan that I’ll share with you later, but I’m not going to spend every mile analyzing a pace band and calculating my estimated finish time. I’m going to take it one mile at a time, and I’m not going to let myself even think about my finish time until I’m in that final 5k.

10 days to go!

Boston

As a runner and a human being, I am heartbroken by what happened yesterday. First and most importantly, my heart aches for the victims and the people whose lives will be forever changed by yesterday’s terrible event.

As a runner, my heart hurts for runners who participated in the marathon. For those who finished before the explosions, I am sad that what should have been a joyous day was turned into a day of panic, fear and sadness. I met a lady when I ran Dizzy Daze who told me she was running Boston for the first time. Based on our conversation, I know she worked her ass off to qualify and running Boston was a dream come true. She was quoted in the Seattle Times:

“I cried when I crossed the finish line,” she said. “It was this beautiful, I-am-a-strong-person and I-can-get-through-this moment.”

Then, 20 minutes later, she stood in the middle of the street with a knot in her stomach, feeling vulnerable and helpless. Those two moments aren’t related, she said, but she will never be able to think about one without the other.

For those who trained for months/years and weren’t given the opportunity to finish the race, my heart aches for them as well.

To the people of Boston – for whom this marathon is a joyous, special tradition – I can’t imagine the pain, shock and sadness they’re feeling.

A marathon isn’t just a silly race; it represents what’s good and pure in humanity. In the Washington Post’s Article If you are losing faith in humanity, go watch a marathon, the writer says (with emphasis added):

The finish line at a marathon is a small marvel of fellowship. Everyone is there to celebrate how much stronger the runners are than they ever thought they could be. Total strangers line up alongside the route to yell encouragement. Bands play. Some hand out cups of water, Gatorade, even beer. Others dress up in costumes to make the runners smile. The fact that other people can run this far makes us believe we can run that far. It’s a happy thought. It makes us all feel a little bit stronger.

The Boston Marathon is especially sacred. Not just anyone can run Boston; unless you raised money for a charity, you have to qualify to run Boston. You have to be fast. For many runners like my dad and me, running Boston would be realizing a dream. As my dad wrote in an email last week:

For many of us, those BQ standards represent an almost impossible achievement. We won’t squeak in — we’ll sacrifice and sweat and discipline ourselves for months and years to become something we weren’t before the effort. We will have trained as hard as we could, and then a little harder.

It’s tough for me to process and think about what happened yesterday. I’m sad, angry, confused and scared. But I will keep running. And I will keep working toward my goal —  to qualify and run the Boston Marathon.

My thoughts and prayers are with everyone affected by this terrible act of evil.