Weeks 5 & 6: Pacing

Miles Week 5: 15.5 (Sunday's long run: 7 miles)
Miles Week 6: 15 (Sunday's long run: 8 miles)
Miles to Date: 67

It is absolutely insane to think that I've logged nearly seventy training miles already. I guess spread out it's not that much, but just seeing it in one big number like that is sort of shocking.

I don't have much time to write, and I'm bad at writing things fast - but it will have to do, as I am two weeks behind in this and it's time just get something in before I feel I'm so far behind I can't catch up.

Pacing is everything, right?

Here's the schedule: We started the first Sunday with three miles. The next week it was four. Then five. So on up, until we hit eight - the week following the eight mile run, we do ten; following ten, we do twelve. Then we have a "recovery" week and bump back down to six. Then up to fourteen. Then back down to eight. Are you dizzy and confused yet? The strategy aims to gradually build endurance without totally destroying yourself in the process. It's a pretty standard approach to marathon training.

So the Sunday before Easter, we met for our seven mile run. I started out alright. Enjoyed myself for a bit, enjoyed the company of my companeros. Then somewhere between miles four and five, I started to wear out. Just...fatigued. I kept dropping the little water bottles that stick onto my water belt (totally goofy-looking accessory but it saves having to hold the bottle in your hand the whole time) - that meant stopping, picking them up, then sprinting to catch up with my group. I tried eating a Gu (another accessory - a little foil packet filled with, you guessed it, goo, which is flavored and even caffeinated and filled with calories and potassium and other things to fuel another 45 minutes or so of exercise. My friend Jeni tasted it and rightly announced that it's sort of like eating cake batter). I got really bad heartburn. Dropped a water bottle again. Etc.

Finally, at the beginning of mile seven, I just bit it. Fortunately for my ego, though not for her, another woman in my group was having serious knee pain, so I very generously offered to stay at the end and walk with her. By the last third of the last mile, Jose, our group leader, was walking with us, and I managed to jog/drag myself to the finish.

But I swear to God, it nearly killed me.

That week, I'd planned on training a lot, in hopes that it would help prepare me for the eight miles, which otherwise surely WOULD kill me. Alas, as fate would have it, I ended up having to take my car into the mechanic, and thereby missed several days of said training as I couldn't drive myself to the gym (or anywhere else where I would be able to train). I finally got in about four miles of sporadic, badly paced walking and running in Santa Cruz on Saturday, when I went to visit my friends Tonia and Xavier. (Xavier invited me to "take a little run" with him - he failed to mention that he's a former sprinter and consequently runs 7-8 minute miles... I ate a lot of dust...)

So. Gasping at the end of seven miles on Sunday. Then very little training, save for the DAY BEFORE the next long run (also not a good idea). I thought I would be toast for the eight mile run.

That morning, last Sunday, I even told the trainer before we started that I might have to stop, I might not be able to finish. He said that was okay. I was prepared.

But then ... I was fine. It was comfortable, the whole damn time. Didn't poop out. Figured out the water belt. Successfully switched from Gu to Energy Gummies (same concept, less messy, easier to eat in small bits, less indigestion). Even ran a couple of little hills in this route. Wrapped up the eight mile run in about ninety minutes with energy and breath to spare.

An experienced runner in my group commented that sometimes training less (giving yourself a recovery week, in essence) leads to having lots of energy and capacity in your next run. Maybe that's the magic force that was at work here. In any case, it was an amazing and happy surprise.

I suppose that's sort of the big-picture look at pacing: Understanding the balance between training and resting, doing enough to keep yourself growing but not so much that you cack. The minutia of pacing counts, too - same way, but smaller. On Saturday I couldn't help but push too fast, while Xavier comfortably zoomed out ahead and away from me... but my running spurts got shorter and shorter, my walking breaks got longer, and I became very tired and very lazy very quickly. The pace with my group the next day seemed absolutely like molasses in comparison - but lo and behold, I could maintain it for an hour and half with no problem.

Alright. Time's up. Ten miles this Sunday. I'll keep you posted.