Thursday, September 21, 2006
There Must Be Some Way Out of Here
All along, I'd thought of the marathon as I'd been taught - a 30-mile race. And I broke that up into three ten-mile races, believing that anyone with fitness could finish 10, anyone with solid training could handle 20, and anyone with dedication, intelligence, or plain talent, could race 30. I was entirely confident that I could go 20 without issue. I was tentatively optimistic I could gut out 30 by the time October rolled around.
That was all before this past Sunday's tune-up run in which I hit the wall at 12 miles, staggered for two more, got some water, and staggered four more until I had to drop under a tree near my house to keep from losing consciousness.
I remember reading an article, recently, in which a Marquette runner described Midwest runners as the toughest around because they deal with all types of weather, with little notice. He made a nice case, if you like pats on the back. But to me, playing with the hand dealt does not make one tough. I certainly didn't feel tough, sitting under that tree with my head between my knees.
It took until today for my body to recover from the strain, but mentally, it's going to be a challenge to race. There's just no reason, none whatsoever, that I should have tired at that point in the run -- all things excluded. It wasn't THAT hot, I wasn't pushing THAT hard, the layout wasn't THAT challenging, and I my diet wasn't to blame. I'd run 14 with no problem just two weeks prior.
All I really have at this point is a short taper. I wanted it this way because the original summer training didn't work out. I never got on a childcare schedule that would allow me to work out weekly. So I was stuck with just doing long runs, nothing hard after July; this should really limit me. So I'm pinning everything on a miraculous taper (and maybe some cool, dry conditions) right now.
It's what I get for running on Satan's team.
That was all before this past Sunday's tune-up run in which I hit the wall at 12 miles, staggered for two more, got some water, and staggered four more until I had to drop under a tree near my house to keep from losing consciousness.
I remember reading an article, recently, in which a Marquette runner described Midwest runners as the toughest around because they deal with all types of weather, with little notice. He made a nice case, if you like pats on the back. But to me, playing with the hand dealt does not make one tough. I certainly didn't feel tough, sitting under that tree with my head between my knees.
It took until today for my body to recover from the strain, but mentally, it's going to be a challenge to race. There's just no reason, none whatsoever, that I should have tired at that point in the run -- all things excluded. It wasn't THAT hot, I wasn't pushing THAT hard, the layout wasn't THAT challenging, and I my diet wasn't to blame. I'd run 14 with no problem just two weeks prior.
All I really have at this point is a short taper. I wanted it this way because the original summer training didn't work out. I never got on a childcare schedule that would allow me to work out weekly. So I was stuck with just doing long runs, nothing hard after July; this should really limit me. So I'm pinning everything on a miraculous taper (and maybe some cool, dry conditions) right now.
It's what I get for running on Satan's team.
