Monthly Archives: August 2009

The best long runs are, in my opinion, a combination of a workout and a journey.

I ran 10 miles of this week's 13-miler on Sligo Creek Parkway Trail.

A long run is a journey in the most literal sense: If you travel 13 miles by foot, as I did Thursday morning, you are literally going somewhere. It’s also an adventure. Things go awry. Get lost on a 3-miler, and you can always backtrack. Get lost above the half-marathon mark, and you’ve got a problem to solve.

A long run is also a test requiring thought and mettle. Feel tired in the middle of a 30-minute tempo run, and you know you can finish by slowing up a bit. Feel spent in the middle of a 13-miler, and you’ve got some strategizing to do: When to walk? When to detour to find a CVS to buy more water when you haven’t come upon a water fountain as you’d expected to?

Then again, I’ve never felt the joy of accomplishment, or the giddy slap-happiness of hearing your favorite song during a particularly hard part of a long run, during an easy 30-minute jaunt.

These are all situations and realizations I encountered while running 13 miles, 10 of them on Sligo Creek Trail, early Thursday morning. The run felt ugly from the beginning, plodding and awkward, and every time I stopped at an intersection, I was deeply, deeply grateful when I came upon red lights. Plus, I planned to run 2.5 miles out on the trail, then run 5 miles in the other direction, backtracking 2.5 miles to get back to the start, where I’d stashed a water bottle. Problem is, the water is only helpful when you actually remember the right place to stop for it. I ran right by, and didn’t encounter a water fountain the entire way. (I learned later that day there’s a fountain literally a few feet away from my turnaround point. Awesome.).

So I was not only exhausted, but dehydrated, and I had all the doubts one has at this point of marathon training: If a 13-miler feels this bad, who am I kidding thinking I’ll be able to stand 26.2 of them at a faster pace? Should I have brought an energy gel? How weird would it be to dunk my whole body in the creek?

I got pretty depressed about how slow I felt, until I got slap-happy. To anyone who saw the skinny, awkward white girl exclaim, “That’s my JAM!” while running over a bridge over Sligo Creek: Don’t judge. “M-E-T-H-O-D Man” had just come on my iPod, and it was a really hard run.

When I got back to my apartment, anxious to dunk my body in an ice bath and write off yet another sluggish long run, I looked at my watch: Two hours even! This is good for me on any day, but especially on a day when my ego felt bruised by how awful the run felt. And then, I remembered how many times I called my friend Sarah while training for the Nashville Country Music Marathon in 2007, resigned to the fact that I wouldn’t be able to run the race with her, after all, based on a really difficult long run.

She told me then that long runs aren’t supposed to be happily sprinted. They’re meant to be gotten through, with their sole purpose being to fool your brain into thinking your body can go just a little farther than it’s ever gone before every week. This is so true. I ran the marathon in 2007, and just like Sarah promised, it was nothing like a long run. Water and energy gels DID appear every few miles, the crowds DID cheer like I was an elite, and my body DID perform better than it ever had before.

A bonus: I felt pretty awesome right after my 13-miler, in stark contrast to the week before, when I suffered from some weird heat-exhaustion business for literally days after an 11-miler. Next week: 15! (Gulp!)

Is August a frenzy of travel and chaos for everyone, or is that just me?

We kicked off the month with a visit from one of our oldest and best friends, Mike, who took us on a whirlwind tour of our own home city while he was in town from Colorado.

The day after Mike left, we went to a Dave Matthews concert with other great friends, after which we boarded a plane to San Francisco for a vacation that made me want to shed my East Coast status permanently and stake out a comfy little place in Monterey, which I’ve decided is a runner’s paradise.

And we just got back from a five-day jaunt to Florida to see my parents.

The question: With all that travel, how does a girl stick to any sort of routine?

I’m happy to report that I’m still right on track for my truncated Marine Corps Marathon training, and that I actually squeezed in quite a bit of my hard-core core work, too. How?

I’d love to say it’s by waking up before dawn to squeeze in long runs, or by balancing on things while sight-seeing (don’t get me wrong: There’s a reason we saw San Francisco by bicycle). Mostly, this time, it was by being selfish, and by surrounding myself with people — my husband, my runner-friend Sarah, my parents — who understand and respect my goals, and who don’t see an early-morning run as a bit strange or selfish.

My one big downfall: vacation wine! I know there’s nothing wrong with a glass of wine here or there during a tough training session. Moderation is key, right? I’m not sure that two to three glasses per night, every night, with a few wine tours through Sonoma and Monterey County mixed in, counts as moderation, but it was certainly worth it. I’m also fairly certain it’s out of my system for a LONG time now. My other downfall: A semi-planned, semi-accidental, three-week break from swimming.

Now, the question becomes: How do I get back to my routine after all that travel and fun?

I start with a swim date with my husband tonight. It’s a sort of Monday-Wednesday-Friday routine, and I’m not going to put any pressure on myself about it. I’m just going to go, and jump back in.

How do you stay on track on vacation, and get back on track when you return?

I’m visiting my parents in Florida, which means this recent DC transplant is getting a reminder of what real heat

With any luck, today's workout will take place here.

It’s not that it doesn’t get hot in DC, just that the heat in Florida in August is a different kind of relentless. My friend Sarah, whose own Florida stint overlapped with mine (a year in Gainesville, three in Jacksonville), once described training for a marathon in Florida like “trying to breathe into a hot, wet washcloth.” And not that this is a factor this trip, but Floridians have no reason to expect a break from the hot, wet washcloth until October, or even November.

After my experience with a heat-exhaustion-induced funk last week, one would think I’d learned my lesson about running in the mid-day heat. But then, after getting back from a morning on the boat with my parents yesterday, the skies had clouded up to the point that I had goosebumps. My perfect opportunity to steal an afternoon training session!

Too bad the clouds only lasted until exactly the moment I walked out the door. I ran a moderate 40 minutes anyway, promising myself that if I felt at all dizzy or funky, I would stop and walk. It went pretty well, leaving me feeling energized and relaxed rather than drained.

Today, we’re planning on another boat day, which means I can plan on a workout a little more conducive to my surroundings: a nice open-water swim in the Gulf. Wish me luck!

I think I had my first encounter with heat exhaustion this week.

A possible encounter with heat exhaustion Tuesday drove me to the treadmill today.

I tackled my long run, something like an 11-miler, late Tuesday morning, when temperatures topped 89 degrees in Washington. I felt OK immediately after, but starting Tuesday evening, I began to feel like a truck hit me. I’d brought a little 18-ounce water bottle on my run, sipped water compulsively throughout Tuesday afternoon and continued to hydrate and be smart on Tuesday night, when I skipped having a drink at the Nationals game to keep my body feeling good.

Still, I woke up on Wednesday feeling like death, the way I’ve only felt after a few Gate River Runs in Jacksonville and one 18-miler in Jacksonville that I made the fatal mistake of leaving for at 8 a.m., meaning I was running in Florida, in April, at noon. Gaah!

Is there such a thing as late-onset heat exhaustion? I’m not sure, but if there is, I certainly felt it Tuesday and yesterday. I think my biggest mistakes were running without being acclimated — my poor body was expecting the 65-degree glory of Monterey and San Francisco, not the hottest and most humid day of the year in DC — and not taking more water, considering I had to literally wring out my shirt several times. Also, I made the major mistake of waiting until I already felt bad to ease up during the run. Truly, after living in Florida for four years, everything feels cool by comparison. I was so busy congratulating myself for being hard-core on this count, I forgot that 89 degrees is just plain hot when your body’s not used to it.

In any case, I think I slept it off, going to bed around 9:30 p.m. last night and waking up at 9 a.m. today, which is simply unheard of for me. I also learned my lesson, and am forgoing my planned trail run this morning for a speed workout on the treadmill, since today’s even hotter than Tuesday. I dislike the treadmill to the extent that, when I tried to think of a positive spin I could put on today’s workout, I could only think that doing speedwork on the treadmill makes it less boring, and means it’s over quicker.

But it will make me faster. It will get me in shape to run the Marine Corps Marathon in the fall. And … well, it will be over quickly, if nothing else. Wish me luck!

Have I mentioned lately that I’m training for the Marine Corps Marathon?

I’m happy to report that, so far, it’s been going pretty well! I ran eight miles two weeks ago, 10 miles just before I left for Monterey, and something like 11 yesterday morning. The eight-miler left me feeling like I could conquer the world, with all the excitement and thrill of accomplishment a long run should carry. The 10-plus-milers were unbelievably hard in the summer heat, but hard in the right way: Other than a tiny bit of lingering soreness, my IT band has held up just fine!

I’d been so worried about my ITB, I’d forgotten that long runs are, like, hard, as illustrated by yesterday’s 11-ish-miler. This week’s kind of a crazy one, as I’m leaving on Thursday to see my parents in Florida, and I have no intention of tackling a long run down there. I’d planned to wake up early to run 12 miles before — early enough to squeeze in some work I knew I needed to do first thing in the morning. Too bad my body’s still on California time … I slept til 8, forcing me to work first, meaning I didn’t leave for my run until 9:30 a.m. It was 89 degrees in Washington yesterday morning, and felt like 94, according to Weather.com.

I sucked it up and did it anyway, running on the trails for a little more than an hour and 40 minutes. I’d like to think I went faster than 10-minute miles, but at worst, I figure I did 10 miles.

I felt tired right off the bat, and by the end of the run, I was shuffling up the considerable hills on my route. By the last mile, a long, sunny uphill on the roads to get back to my apartment from the trails, I’m not even sure you could call what I was doing “running.” But I finished, which I know to be the whole point of long runs.

I’m getting to the point that my long runs are starting to develop the sense of adventure and whimsy I remember from my last bout of marathon training in 2007. Yesterday, that meant a loud exclamation of, “Yeah!” when I came upon the water bottle I’d stashed mid-route, and laughing out loud when I came upon downhill sections of the trails. I also cackled pretty loudly when I took off my shirt to wring it out (did I mention it was 89 degrees?). There’s simply no matching the joy of closing in on the end of a long run, no matter how the run has gone.

Here’s what motivated me: Remembering how hard I’ve worked in the gym on my amped-up core routine. Also, listening to Jack Johnson to keep me in the slow-and-steady mindset. Really, he was a better fit for the trails, anyway — Eminem’s great, but Rock Creek Park ain’t no 8 Mile. “Upside Down” really did the trick on my last, sluggish uphills.

I honestly still feel a little tired today, like I’m coming down with something, or like I have a spot of heat exhaustion. Is it messed up that this makes me feel a little bit hard-core, even though I mostly feel exhausted?

Next up: a recovery ride on the stationary bike today.

“I saw eternity the other night/Like a great ring of pure and endless light.”

I got this Henry Vaughan poem in my head like a song while lying on the beach in Carmel, Calif., as my husband and I watched shooting stars zoom through the great starry awesomeness of the night sky above us. It was right about then that I decided: I will find a way to run the Big Sur Marathon.

Let me explain. It’s not that I’m so obsessed with running that I let thoughts about my favorite hobby ruin this most romantic of moments. It’s just that we’d spent the day driving through Big Sur, and I felt wistful rather than warm and fuzzy. That’s the kind of beautiful Monterey, Calif., and the surrounding area is: I truly felt unable to absorb it all in one viewing, no matter how thoughtfully I tried to observe. In Big Sur especially, as much as I tried to drink in the ribbon of rocky coastline above a deep turquoise-blue Pacific Ocean, I felt barely able to grasp the surface. This reminded me of one of my favorite parts about running: the way it can be part sightseeing, part exercise in meditation, forcing you to slow down and appreciate the tiny things — the smell of wild sage growing on the roadside, the otters and sea lions barely visible in the surf — as well as the giant ones.

That was basically the whole idea behind our trip, which included four full days in Monterey and the surrounding area, then two full days in San Francisco, including an afternoon trip to Sonoma. It didn’t hurt that the friends we were visiting are all about the running-hiking-biking lifestyle; Sarah is my rock-star runner-friend who coached me through my first (and so far, only) marathon in 2007, and she just kicked butt in the San Francisco Marathon last month. My first day in town included a Sarah-guided six-mile run on the Monterey Bay Rec Trail, which winds along the most beautiful stretch of coastline I’ve ever seen. Next up: a nice recovery ride through Pebble Beach. Well, for me it was a recovery ride; Sarah towed a toddler and a baby in the bike trailer, making it a bike ride and a hard-core strength workout all in one. We even hung out at the Monterey Sports Center, a bright, sunny gym where Sarah joined me in my tedious-but-necessary core workout.

Even without a workout buddy, Monterey begs for physical activity and general good health, with its miles of gorgeous running trails and its bounty of fresh produce. On Monday night, we went to the Pacific Grove Farmers Market for fresh halibut and berries for dessert. Tuesday night, we ate at the Monterey Farmers Market, where I could have made a dinner from the free fruit samples alone.

The sightseeing by foot and bike continued in San Francisco, where we started our trip by renting bikes to cross the Golden Gate Bridge, truly one of the most awesome and beautiful experiences of my life. Then, on our last day in town, we started the morning with one of the most memorable runs I’ve ever been on.

We headed out from our hotel downtown hoping to get in a quick 30-minute jog. An hour and ten minutes later, we had run up Lombard Street, famous for its steep, hairpin twists and turns (SFTravel.com declares that if not for the switchbacks, the road is so steep “people would be killed rolling down.” Yikes!); along Fisherman’s Wharf and through another awesome-looking farmers market; by The Embarcadero; past AT&T Park and McCovey Cove; and through a couple more cool neighborhoods we wouldn’t have seen if not for that run.

Now that I’m back home, I miss Monterey as if it were a person. I’m meeting my husband for our regular Monday afternoon swim date later, and without him being there, I’m not sure I’d be able to tolerate a workout that doesn’t include stunning views of the Pacific Ocean. Good thing I’m planning to go back, huh?

Incidentally, if you like my other amped-up core workout, check out today’s Examiner.com post listing every IT band exercise and stretch known to man (or at least known to me). My new motivation to do these exercises? I want to be strong enough to run the Big Sur Marathon sometime sooner rather than later!

Amy will be posting sporadically this week, as she’ll be spending time with one of her dearest, oldest friends, who’s visiting from Denver.

The week after, she won’t be posting at all, as she’ll be trail-running, winery-visiting, Big-Sur-going in Monterey. Stay tuned … photos to follow!