Soldiering On

Most of my usual running buds were racing the Army Run Sunday, so I did my 37k run on my own. That will be my longest training run, so it's all downhill from here ... until the marathon of course. Which is going to be an uphill battle, quite literally.

I was having a hard time wrapping my head around 37k solo. I know myself, and three hours in my own head is a recipe for a mental meltdown. So I packed a playlist with new tunes, saved my favourite running outfit for Sunday,  mapped out a scenic cross-provincial route (that sounds so much more impressive than it is), and plied myself with promises of chocolate, Scotch and a nap upon my return. 

Turns out, the self-bribery was unnecessary: the Army Run provided ample inspiration to push me through. 

I watched the 5k race before setting out, and then my route had me crossing paths with the half marathoners. If there is any race to inspire mental toughness, it's that one. I cheered for wounded athletes, admired the fitness of current members of our Armed Forces, watched teammates set personal bests, and marveled at the 18,000 people who got up early on a Sunday to challenge themselves and honour our troops.

But in particular, I was inspired on Sunday by my brother Brett. A few months ago, my brother committed himself to some major lifestyle changes, to a focus on his health, and to finding out just how fast he can go. Brett and I have been running on the same team for a few months now, so I've seen just how hard he's been working. My brother has a perfect (read: skinny) runner body and heaps of talent, but what sets him apart is that he's tougher than anyone I know. I've seen him making himself suffer, forcing himself to keep going on a lot of really tough days, and making commitments on and off the road. He's been dedicated everyday, no exceptions. He's pushed his body to its limits, and those limits are melting away pretty quickly. 

In a few short months, he went from not running at all to racing at a high level. A month ago, his 5k time was over 18 minutes. On Sunday, he ran 17:13, which was good for a top 10 finish. He'll keep getting faster. Watching him come down that finishing stretch, I was full of pride for his accomplishment. He set a goal, worked for it, and achieved it. A simple formula maybe, but so much easier said than done. 

Intense brother.

So when my hips were screaming at 32k, when I was starting to feel cranky and a bit delirious, that's when I decided to pick up the pace for the last 5k. It hurt, but I thought of my bro, and I knew how hard he'd be driving. So I did too. And then I napped.

Week 14 Recap:

M: off - yoga at home
TU: 12k treadmill
W: 13k  (4 x 1k)
TH: off
F: 12k (6 x hill fast)
SA: 8k treadmill + yoga class
SU: 37k

Week total: approx. 82k

4 weeks to go.

Time for another cop-out post wherein I simply direct you to check out a superior blogger, the lovely Ms. Rachel Schmidt. I have had so many people tell me that they've connected to Rachel's blog through mine and have proceeded to be blown away by the power of her writing. If you have been reading and appreciating her blogging efforts, please leave her a comment! Maybe she can be convinced to write a book one day when she's feeling a little more up to that.

Rachel's latest post is here.

As for me, I've got one more big week of training to go before the taper starts. I just had a really good week - I'm feeling strong and fit. My legs seem to be adapting to the increase in mileage, and some speed is coming back (in my coach's words, I'm losing my marathon shuffle). Maybe it's just that fall air, but the spring is back in my step. Now it's just a matter of staying healthy and uninjured. It's time for some new shoes, lots of stretching, a few delightful ice baths.

My 5:45am wake-up call Sunday morning was the butt of many choice words, but at least I have the consolation that there aren't too many more of them to come. I'm almost ready to say I'm ready to do this. Almost.

Week 13 Recap:

M: 9k (5 x 700m hill) + Hatha yoga class
TU: 10k
W: 18k (6 x 1k)
TH: off
F: 10k (5k @ 10k pace)
SA: 5k easy
SU: 29k (last 10k @ race pace)

Week total: approx. 81k

Cross-country smell

This week, a wonderful thing happened. I smelled cross-country smell for the first time this year. You may know cross-country smell as the smell of fall - that combination of crisp air, damp leaves, and something unidentifiable that's sort of burnt and sweet. I will always associate that scent with the start of the cross-country season, those first September trail runs with the team. And it brings me that nostalgic shiver of joy that only a familiar smell can.

Fall is my favourite. Fall means cute boots, scarves and jackets, Starbucks pumpkin scones, falling asleep bundled up with the windows open, new TV seasons, Thanksgiving stuffing, breathtaking Gatineau hikes, and school supply shopping (yep). It becomes socially-acceptable to start looking forward to Christmas. It's gorgeous out and I'm not allergic to everything. I can't think of anything to dislike about fall, I really can't. Ok maybe the shorter days. But that's all I've got.

I have been very wrapped up in "training". These words like mileage, fueling, pacing, splits, intervals, hill repeats, recovery, and tapering are now overused in my vocabulary. A few months ago I was engrossed in every book, article and conversation I could find about training for a marathon. But, in the past week, I'm just not feeling so into it. I quickly shift to a new subject when people ask about the upcoming marathon, and I've moved on to other literary interests. I've avoided blogging this week. I thought maybe I was starting to get sick of running.

But I've realized that I'm just sick of obsessing about running. Earlier this week I threw on an old purple Western XC tshirt and set out just as the sun was starting to go down. I left the GPS watch and FuelBelt at home. It felt so great to just be out there on a crisp fall evening, moving. Breathing. Running is still just running, and I love running. I just needed to stop and smell the cross-country.

Week 12 Recap:

M: 12k + weights/core 
TU: 10k (track - 800 straightaways, 2 x1k, 4 x500, 2 x 1k)
W: 8k + core class
TH: 34k
F: off
SA: off
SU: 13k

Week total: approx. 77k

Jackie learns to pace herself.

Since I really have no concept of how fast I should attempt to run my marathon, I decided to try racing a half at my ambitious-goal-pace (4:30 k's) to see if that's realistic. It turned out well: I felt relaxed, and was able to race the last 5k full-out feeling energized and strong. The time wasn't spectacular, but I still consider it a big step in the right direction for me:  it was probably the first time ever that I've decided on a pace and actually stuck with it.

I am not a good pacer. You know those Japanese women in the Olympics who kept taking the races out at a blazing speed and then getting dropped by the Kenyans/Ethiopians by the end? If I were an Olympian, that would be me. (Yes, I just compared myself to an Olympian. Blogging really is the fuel of narcissism...) Anyway, my nerves always get the best of me, and as soon as I see runners ahead of me, I want to go with them. Of course, the way you feel at the beginning of a race is deceptive - to fresh legs and a brain pumping with adrenaline, a fast pace feels easy. Until all of a sudden it doesn't.

That's my race "strategy": balls to the wall, fade, push through whilst feeling like a pile of death, consider dropping out several times, curse myself for taking up this stupid sport, sprint out the last 100 metres with every fiber of my body screaming, keel over at the finish line, wonder why my hamstrings are so angry the next day. I think I've always run positive splits. I am ashamed to say that more than one concerned finish-line volunteer has asked me if I need a wheelchair. My race photos always look like I'm acting out a scene from Braveheart. Race photos are a truly cruel thing, really. Who looks good while running except this guy?! But I digress.

This "strategy" goes against all running wisdom. And it would likely fail very, very miserably in a marathon. So, I am forcing myself to learn the art of pacing. On Saturday, I decided on a race plan beforehand. I let a girl running faster than my pace get away from me at the start. I thanked volunteers at the water stations. I never once thought about dropping out. I even crossed the finish line SMILING. Evidence:

Ok, kinda hard to tell. But considering how I normally look, I think that's pretty good:

They may take our lives, but they will never take OUR FREEDOM!

Week 11 Recap:

M: off day - yoga 
TU: 9k (track - 2 x 2k, 8 x 300, 2 x 2k)
W: 13k + core class
TH: 13k (8 x 3min uphill)
F: off
SA: 26k (1/2 marathon in 1:32)
SU: off 

Week total: approx. 61k

A Fine Balance

One of my friends, a seasoned marathoner, warned me that serious marathon training involves constantly towing the line between being in the best shape of your life and being hit with illness, injury or burnout. I am quickly learning how right she is.

I wrote last week about my 30k Sunday run that felt relatively breezy. I thought I had recovered well,  but by Tuesday afternoon I was feeling not-quite-right. Getting caught in a torrential downpour on my Tuesday evening run sealed the deal: I spent the night and most of the next day in bed with alternating fever and chills, feeling too weak and tired to do much more than watch Downton Abbey and catch up on my celebrity gossip. It passed quickly, and I was back running hard by Friday. But it surprised me how suddenly and thoroughly I was knocked out. Maybe it would have happened regardless of the 30k ... but the timing was suspect.

More balanced than I.

I know how to run. I have plenty of experience pushing past pain to run faster times, I have long been fitting training and racing into a busy schedule, and I have a race day routine that's been set in stone for a decade. I am much less skilled in the art of rest and recovery. I probably should be better by now - after all, I've missed full seasons due to illness and injury in the past. I know I need to eat properly and sleep lots and do all my therapy and strengthening exercises to stay injury-free. But with shorter distances, I've been able to get by letting that side of things slide. (I now shudder at my varsity-athlete post-race routine, which usually involved intoxication, little to no sleep, and a run early the next morning. But my 20 year-old constitution was hardier.) With the marathon, I'm learning that failure to do all the non-running work is swiftly punished.

So, as I enter my heaviest month of training, I am going to try to take recovery as seriously as running. Many a coach and running magazine has tried to drill the importance of recovery into my head, but I'm going to try to actually take it to heart. 7-8 hours sleep a night, regular massage/ART, stretching and foam rolling every day, ice baths, resting heart rate monitoring, physio exercises, core work, post-workout protein ... I am actually going to do all of this instead of just thinking about doing it. And, with any luck, the reward will be making it to the start line healthy enough to suffer through 42.2. What a strange breed we are.

Week 10 Recap:

M: off day - yoga class
TU: 12k + core/leg work
W: off - sick
TH: off - sick
F: 14k (11k tempo)
SA: 12k + core workout
SU: 32k

Week total: approx. 70k

Identity crisis

This morning I ran for two and a half hours. 30k. My longest run ever.

The thing is, it wasn't that bad. I had a good sleep last night. It was perfect weather for a run this morning: sunny but breezy. I had excellent company and conversation for the first 22k. My stomach cooperated, my hamstrings didn't give out. I am now hobbling around a bit, but the Sunday afternoon hobble is now a normal part of my existence. It wasn't fast, but it wasn't all that slow either. Two and a half hours of running that, shockingly, I kind of enjoyed.

I say shockingly because I thought this would be the part I'd hate. I thought I would dread these longer and longer runs taking up my entire Sunday morning, requiring rest Saturday night and more rest Sunday afternoon. And yet I find myself kind of looking forward to the long runs. In fact, the short, steep hills I ran on Wednesday were much more uncomfortable and mentally challenging. The long run is leisurely. When you divide it up into 5k segments, or gel breaks, or route sections, it doesn't feel all that long. I like seeing the kilometers click by on my GPS watch. I like making it to places I've never run to before. The long run means time with friends, or the opportunity to really listen to an entire album. Or three entire albums. I enjoy the feeling that I've accomplished something, on a weekend, before 11am. And then, when it's all over, I can laze around and eat everything my heart desires for an entire afternoon. In fact, I NEED to rest and eat obscene amounts. How many people get to say that?!

Oh jeez. I'm turning into a distance runner.

Week 9 Recap:

M: off day - Vinyasa Flow class
TU: 10k + core/leg weights
W: 13k (6 x 650m hill workout)
TH: off day
F: 14k (2 x 5k workout)
SA: 6k
SU: 30k

Week total: approx. 73k

Olympic fever

I miss the Olympics. As an obsessive-compulsive runner-type, I attacked my Olympics-viewing with the same gusto as my training, and became the ultimate couch potato. All free time was spent engrossed in everything from judo to weightlifting. I cried with the gymnasts, cheered with the rowers, and reached the point of feeling like I could judge a synchronized diving competition ("Well-executed pike but a little too much splash on the entry."). I memorized every Nike commercial, gained a strong opinion on every controversy, felt a meaningful bond with Brian Williams.

But of course, the running competitions dominated my attention. I am completely inspired by the mind-blowing efforts out on the roads and track. I have been trying to channel their speed, agility and perfect form in my own workouts. This has led only to me seriously straining my hamstrings and embarrassing myself with my 200m split times, but no matter. I am inspired, and inspiration is needed when one has a hilly marathon less than two months away.

Hooray, it's 5:30am!!

While most couch potatoes don't begin their pursuit at 5am, a serious couch potato must make sacrifices to achieve greatness. So, on Sunday morning, myself and 300 or so like-minded crazies gathered to watch the Men's Marathon on the big screens at the Mill Street Brew Pub. I had worried that nobody would show up at such an ungodly hour on the day of rest, but I underestimate the devotion of my fellow runners. There was a line-up out the door by 5:30am. The party was a great time, and we raised lots for Dylan Wykes' CANFund and my own Team In Training campaign.

Brad and I are the chipper, completely awake, greeting crew.

Anyway, now life has returned to normal, summer TV has gone back to being awful, and I probably won't watch a single synchronized dive until 2016. But on the plus side, I probably have another couple years free from the "I Believe" song. Dammit, now it's back in my head again.

Week 8 Recap:

M: off day 
TU: 10k
W: 15k (6 x 1k workout)
TH: off day
F: 14k (2 x 5k workout)
SA: 10k + BodyPump
SU: 26k

Week total: approx. 75k