So how'd it go?

Running a marathon is like having a baby.

I think. In truth, I've never been pregnant, nor borne a child. But from what I've seen and heard, much of the hard work happens in the months leading up to delivery, way before the squishy new human arrives on the scene to steal the show. 

Don't get me wrong, running the marathon was a blast! I'm so happy it went well, the weather was good, I didn't get sick before, during or after. And I have only good things to say about the Philly organizers, our gracious hotel staff (THANK YOU for the post-race shower!) and even the onlookers themselves.

Most runners know though, even if their earnest fans don't realize it, that the marathon itself is just icing on the cake. The grand finale. The curtain call.

Think about it. For months, you imagine yourself successfully running 26.2 consecutive miles. Without stopping. OK, maybe you walk briskly at the water stations. It may be raining that day. Or snowing! For sure it won't be balmy, at least at 5am in mid-November, waiting for the race to start.

But forget all that. On race day, you know you'll pin on your number, walk the mile from your hotel to the start, and line up for the race. The starting gun goes off and you go! At that point it's too late to worry that you forgot to bring an extra GU pack, you didn't wear your luckiest pair of underwear, or you drank too much water during the night and will probably have to find a port-a-potty somewhere after mile 15. The fact is, it's only 3-5 hours until you're done. 

Afterward, you bask in the glow of warm wishes and congratulations from family and friends. You wear your medal around the house for a few days. You eat extra turkey at Thanksgiving, knowing you don't have to get up at 5:45am the next day to get in an 8-mile run before work. 

All of that comes after 5 months of enormous focus on this one goal, with some deprivation and minor suffering along the way. Days when you shivered uncontrollably while cooling down after a late October run. Evenings at the lake, when everyone else raised their wine glass to cheer the sunset and you sipped ice water (by the way, I felt WAY too sorry for myself about cutting out wine for a month, until a new mother gently reminded me that she'd had mostly water for the previous nine months). Week after week where nary a cookie, chip or bite of cake passes your lips. Early to bed, and WAY too early to rise. Lots of sweat, a skinned knee here and there. Gatorade, protein powder and ice packs for the knees. 

Yet in the end, it's worth it. You've got your medal to prove to the world you did it. You know now that pain is mostly relative. You realize that deprivation isn't permanent. 

'Would you run another marathon?', people ask. Would you have another baby? Too soon to tell I think. :)

Post-marathon musings

Earlier today I read the last post I'd written for this blog and felt shock. It went back to September! What, exactly, had I been doing those two and a half months between the half-marathon and my big marathon day in November?

I was running, of course! Lots of running. More importantly, I'd set a new pace goal. After the half-marathon I knew, if all went well, with no injuries, I could finish a marathon. So I raised the bar---I wanted to beat my half-marathon pace. I planned instead to go for a 9:10 min pace as my stretch goal for the full 26.2 miles in Philly.

I reworked my training program to focus on speed. I gutted out hills and flat speedwork, increased my protein intake immediately after runs to rebuild my leg muscles, and cut back on carbs to lower my body fat content. I felt what it was like to move my legs faster and breathe harder. And to keep going even when I thought I'd barf. I found my aerobic threshold. I fell a few times.

Even so, going into Philly I was nervous. It was dawning on me that I needed more training time to run the race as fast as I imagined. And in the end I failed. Hitting my time goal, that is.

But training for and running my first marathon turned out to be one of the best projects of my life.

Mileage

Now that I've successfully reached my target pace (9 minute/30 second miles) at a half-marathon distance, I'm ready to take my training to the next level. The Philadelphia Marathon is only eight weeks away. I'm heading into new territory with weekly mileage, which includes longer runs than I've ever done before.

There are two ways to build weekly mileage. You can run fewer days, with longer distances for each training session. Or you can run more days (up to 5 or 6), but shorten the distance for each session.

One subtlety about increasing weekly mileage is the wear and tear on your body, which has to be managed along the way. After recently straining my hip from overtraining, I realized I need to throw cross-training into the mix. So far, sit-ups and push-ups and interval training have been helpful in avoiding injury.

So it's a delicate balance between finding time in my schedule, assessing my aches and pains, and being mindful of the need to push on to the next level of my marathon training. For example, last week I logged extra days at the office. So three training sessions fit better into my schedule. But because I needed to reach a weekly mileage of 35 miles, each run was longer (12, 8 and 17). Because time was short, the other days I did sit-ups/push-ups and 30 minutes of interval training.

This week was a quieter work week, so I tried the alternate approach and mapped out a 5-day schedule of mostly 3-7 miles, the long run being 10m (considerably shorter than the previous week's long run of 17 miles). I also tacked sit-ups and push-ups and intervals onto two of those training days, along with the run. Total mileage= 35 miles.

Once again I marvel at the intellectual challenge of getting ready for a marathon. There's more to running 26.2 miles than meets the eye. And no one can figure this stuff out for you. It's a one-of-a-kind thing.

Half-marathon success!

Though the feeling of glory has faded somewhat by now, I'm still feeling pretty happy about the half-marathon I ran three weeks ago.

It was the Dunkin' Run Arc Race (why did a donut shop sponsor a road race? I'm still wondering that myself), in my childhood stomping grounds of Liverpool, New York. My friend Brandye invited me to sign up, and at 9am on an overcast day we set out to see what the half-marathon had in store for us.

I had a strategy, based on the course I studied online, days before the race. It was simple, though I wrote it on a card tucked into my pocket. Basically, I'd start off easy. I knew ahead of time I'd grab a cup of fluids at each water station, alternating water and Gatorade. I needed to be at mile 5.5 in 53 minutes or less, to stay on pace. By mile 7.5, I needed to pick it up.

Everything played out well. The temperature was mild and overcast, I was carbo-loaded from a pasta dinner the night before (thanks Mom!), and my legs felt good (that taper the week before really worked). Early in the race I paced off two amiable guys ahead of me. I let others pass me without worry, and cruised by others who lagged on the hills. I met my targets at miles 5.5 and 7.5 and remembered what I'd written on my card: 'pick it up!'. So I did.

I finished strong, pumping my fist and smiling giddily as I slowed up afterward. My loving hubby plied me with fluids, brought my jacket to counter the post-race chill. Brandye's hubby congratulated me, and we all waited for Brandye to come in, not far behind me. It was a good day. I was grateful for my pace, the support from family and friends, and that I didn't hurt too badly. A success all around.

I let myself enjoy the thrill of success, not yet ready to think about the training coming down the pike.

Alcohol-free trial

Yesterday I finished my first ever 30-day alcohol-free trial. And today I celebrated with one Corona beer---that never tasted so good!

In early summer I'd toyed with eliminating alcohol from my marathon training diet, as most runners concede that drinking regularly can set back your training:

* The extra carbs are empty calories. You are what you eat, and every bite counts toward better or worse performance during the next day's run.
* Alcohol dyhydrates you, which can be dangerous for runners on a hot day.
* And booze affects the sleep cycle. Your body needs extra sleep, especially after long runs, to repair muscle tissue and handle joint inflammation.

Plus, too much mileage on too little sleep can weaken the immune system. And runners on a strict training schedule can't afford to get sick.

Also I didn't like that I was using alcohol as a crutch to 'unwind' after a hectic workday or to open up socially. I figured the time was right to see how I handled completely eliminating alcohol from my life, if only for one short month.

So what was it like to skip the drinks for thirty consecutive days? Surprisingly, I didn't miss it. Only rarely did I feel the urge to drink wine with dinner, or go out for a beer on a Saturday night. Socially it was tougher, especially when all around me folks were clinking their glasses and cheerfully pouring out more rounds.

Always, though, someone kindly remembered to refill my iced tea or water glass. And I may have even inspired some others to change their drinking habits---after hearing about my conscious decision to cut back my drinking, one friend stated aloud to a roomful of people how she'd like to deliberately skip, or choose, her nightly glass of wine too.

Aside from the obvious benefits to my training, what were other pluses with passing on the drinks?

For one, I got to try alternatives! A french bistro in NYC served imported elderflower-infused lemonade (who knew?), and I sampled iced green tea lemonade at a recent BBQ.

For another, I found I could concentrate more closely on the conversations going on around me, a much different experience than recalling a melange of images the day after a party, with no clue about what was actually said. I found I survived just fine without a prop in hand to get me through an evening. And as it turns out, I'm just as funny without the booze. :)

What comes next, I ask myself? Is it smart to continue eschewing alcohol while I'm training?

Yes, but with some moderation. What I've learned is the control is important to me: making a conscious decision to drink, and to know it's fine if I don't. And until marathon day, I'll drink less at each sitting, and for just a day or two each week.

For sure, after all this is over, I'll lift up a celebratory pint to toast my efforts. But ultimately I'd like to make the occasional drink special again.

Long runs

Most online marathon training programs include 3 different kinds of runs: intervals/sprints, tempo runs, and long runs. Each contributes in its own way toward building cardiovascular capacity, joint resilience and muscle strength to eventually take you the full 26.2.

I've had experience using intervals and tempo runs to increase my running pace, but these long runs are new to me. And they present a host of problems that makes this part of the marathon training process as intellectual as it is physical.

Since we're talking about running for 100+ consecutive minutes during each long run, the question is what keeps your body going efficiently and effectively until the run is completed?

How much and how often should you drink? Do you walk while you're drinking, to avoid choking? Or keep running to stay on race schedule, taking small sips?

What do you eat along the way? Or is it better to just run faster and finish before the glucose levels crash?

What happens if you get a stitch in your side? Or your knee starts aching? Do you stop running and wait in a 10-minute line for the port-a-potty, or keep going even though you REALLY feel like you have to go to the bathroom?

What about the mental challenge of running for 2 or 3 hours at a stretch? So many people I've talked to tell me they don't run much because they get bored. I worried about that too at first, especially as my long runs consist of loops---I'm often traipsing down the same trails day after day.

You could write chapters about each of these subjects, and I don't know the answers. I'm sure it's different for each runner. So far I've found the best thing to do is run and just see what happens. Experiment, take notes, alter my technique and plan for future runs as I go. This is the fun part of training for me---fusing intelligent strategy with diligence and hustle to get ready for the race of my life.

Diet

Several people have made comments about my physique. They've noticed it's changed recently, and their feedback is varied, and interesting. At the office, someone said I was too thin. It's true, I've lost body fat around my waistline, and have to pin all my work pants. My sister-in-law said I looked 'cut.' My mom thinks I might be taking this training too far.

She was worried because I looked 'too thin' (I wore a strappy summer top to a backyard BBQ, and she said my ribs were showing). To reassure her, I told her I'm not dieting, not in the conventional sense of trying to 'lose weight' by calorie restriction. This is true.

But when I thought about it later, I decided I am indeed dieting. I'm very carefully noticing (if not always successfully controlling), what I put in my mouth since I started training in April.

My 'diet' has swung from good to horrible these past three months. Good meaning I'm concentrating on ingesting certain foods that support my performance---more protein, less alcohol, less fried food, fewer cookies and chips.When I eat at home and the office, it's mostly vegetarian stews, homemade leftovers, Greek yogurt, and fruit.

Unfortunately, I've lost almost all control at three different family gatherings this spring.(At the BBQ I ate a whole bag of clams, a full lobster, a roll dipped in butter, lots of cheese and crackers, a couple handfuls of chips, two beers---and two pieces of birthday cake. Big pieces. Clearly my mom didn't take note of all that passed my lips that afternoon).

So I wonder as I approach the half-way mark in my training. Am I getting enough calories? If so, does this mean bigger portions, or more frequent healthy snacks throughout the day? Do I need to adjust the nutritional balance toward or away from carbs, protein, fats?

I don't know the answers. But I will do more reading. I'm tinkering a lot during this training, seeing what I need to do mentally and physically to get my body to run 26+ miles efficiently, without pain, at a satisfying pace.