This Morning at the Track

Editor's note: this is a guest post. Enjoy the 'different' perspective.

It happened at the Mayfield track. Creature of the morning that I am, I like to get moving in the early darkness at the start of the day. And this day, I had decided to make my way over to the track for a little exercise. Just as I was getting started, something big came around the curve, and was heading right at me! Imagine my surprise. It was in my lane; would it swerve out of my way, or should I move?

Within seconds, I realized that it was one of those large mammals they call ‘human beings.’ I’ve seen other ones here at the track, and I usually keep my distance. But this one was coming way too close. I quickly decided to raise my tail to try to warn it off. Maybe it would see the black and white fur, and realize that I am not without weaponry.

It didn’t work. It lumbered toward me still. Now I could see that this one had absolutely no fur on its head (how strange), and it was making an awful-looking, even scary face as it ran. It was also making scary grunting noises between the heavy breathing.

Should I spray or should I run? Even though it surely would have been fun to spray this thing, I decided that the risk of him falling over me would be too great.

Raising my tail as I went, I scurried out of the way.

Ducking under the fence as I left the track area, I vowed to get this guy with some spray next time. Fun awaits.

Up to Eleven

The movie, This is Spinal Tap made the phrase, "Up to eleven" a popular idiom. It seems the rock and roller character thought his music could be played louder because his amplifier volume dial went up to eleven as opposed to ten. It's become a fun phrase to indicate anything being exploited to its utmost limits, or even exceeding them.

And so it is with my training, in more ways than one. After a long, 24-mile Lester Rail Trail Trot on Saturday, after the usual Hinckley Hills on Sunday, after some slow and easy neighborhood jogging on Monday, and after treadmill speedwork followed with a later run alongside cross-country runner Jenny Hoffman ob Tuesday, it was time for a Wednesday track workout. Just getting out there once again felt like taking it up to eleven.

Then came my first (of ten) 800's. I was dizzy, and it didn't go well. I couldn't break four minutes, despite a fast finish. Should I give up? No, I managed to keep going. And things got better. My second one was in the three-fifties, and the rest were all under three-fifty. 

Thus I felt better as I went on, and the thought occurred to me to take it up to eleven in my count of 800s. This would enable me to throw out the first one for the purpose of determining an average. But would I be able to do an eleventh one? 

Nope. After all those other ones, I was exhausted, barely able to complete my cool-down. I had to leave it down at ten.

Be Like Eliud (and Brigid)

Second Sole Medina has had a series of running-related meetings featuring various speakers. This past Wednesday the topic was how to run faster, and the speaker was Renee Harden. Jim O’Connor asked how to finish strong in a race. His example was Eliud Kipchoge’s finishing kick during his barrier-busting sub-two-hour marathon this past Saturday.

Notice that I was careful to refer to it as ‘barrier-busting,’ and not ‘record-breaking,’ since it isn’t an official record. Regardless of its officialdom, no one can argue that it was a remarkable, even historic achievement to break such a barrier. A lot of us watched the run, and some of us (guess who) even sat and viewed the whole thing (it wasn’t a bit boring). Kipchoge’s finish was particularly electrifying. And we’re not even talking about the just-as-remarkable women's record set by Brigid Kosgei set at the Chicago Marathon the very next day.

We will leave the subject of Kipchoge’s shoes for another post.

Renee nailed it with her answer to Jim's question. How to finish strong as Kipchoge did? It's pure fitness, she said. I agree. You become as fit as you can be, avoid becoming injured, run your goal pace, and have just enough left to finish strong. I like this subject so much that I want to discuss it further.

Let's restrict this to marathons. It no-doubt also applies to half-marathons and ultras, but it's true in spades for the thons. Here's the thing: there is no feeling in the world like finishing strong in a marathon. Nothing. Nada.

Without diving too deep into the details, I would say that of my 112 marathons, perhaps between 20% and 30% had even to negative splits. This means the second half was close to the same or faster than the first half. These are the ones that feel good. The others decidedly do not. Some of those races with very negative splits probably shouldn't count, because the race was being run as a training exercise. So let's call it 15% to 25%. Therefore, something on the order of 75% of my marathons have been at best, arduous and difficult exercises in futility, and at worst, dreaded death marches.

Why do a thing that's not necessarily terribly good for you (running is, overdoing it with marathon running, not so much), is difficult, painful, frustrating, and has a 3 in 4 chance of turning out to be a miserable failure? That's easy. It's because, although those lows are indeed pretty darn low, the highs, those strong finishes, those even and negative splits, are so high, they're in the stratosphere. There are no other human experiences that can match them.

Let's say that I've convinced you. You want to run a marathon with even splits in which you finish strong and get that high of runners' highs. How do you do such a thing? We can start with Renee's answer: get fit. You won't be able to something in a marathon that you haven't trained for and therefore aren't capable of.

To add to that just a bit: don't get injured (Renee said this as well), run a lot, and run with intensity (you can follow a plan like Renee's or another one, but follow it!), determine, follow, and stay with your goal pace, and finally, train specifically for that final part of your race.

How to do that? Run the final 3-5 miles of a couple of your long runs at planned marathon pace. This isn't easy, but chances are that if you can't do this in training - at least once or twice during your training cycle, you won't be able to run the entire race - including the final miles - at that pace.

Don't give up. It may take 10,000 hours of training before you become proficient at marathoning. And just as important. Don't get injured. 

Finally, remember Dan's mantra: run a lot.

Eighty percent of success is showing up

The credit for the post title quote ('Eighty percent of success is showing up') goes to Woody Allen. It not only applies to life, but also (you guessed it) to running as well. If you extend the thought just a bit, you get the corollary to the thought of my previous post - Failure to Launch.

In other words, you do need to show up. But then you start running, and then, you have to keep running. Until you're done. Occasionally, preferably very occasionally, it's okay to allow yourself to fail. But based on another famous quote - this one from NASA - it's more often best to consider failure as not a valid option.

Today is a case in point. Although I've done a smattering of speedwork since just before Akron, it hasn't been very good. Certainly not like the thing I had going in late August and early September - often 10 x 800 (a Yasso workout) in the very low 3:40s. And that is very good for me these days. But I wasn't entirely feeling it this morning. Could I complete anything in this direction whatsoever?

Well, first I had to accept that I may not be able to Yasso through these 800s quite so fast. Second, I still wanted to get through them - all of them. And third, I wanted them to be consistent.  That's not asking for too much, is it?

The nice weather helped. I began by taking them one at a time. It also helps to not think very much about the entire elephant; just take the bites one by one. Guess what? It worked. I grew a bit more confident with each 800, and by the time I only had a few more to go, my completion assurance level, which started in the basement, was not at the top of the roof.

That said, the ten repeats were slightly slower than for those other workouts. This time the average 800 times was in the mid-3:40s. But I'll take them. Now, to do this a couple more times before my next thon.

Failure to Launch

Seven days ago, I'd planned to run 18 to 24 miles, and I only did 7. I suppose it was too soon (one week) after the Akron Marathon. But those 7 miles were so darn slow that they felt like 20. And they took nearly as much time as 20 would have. This was a real stinker; a true failure to launch.

Six days ago, I'd planned to run a full 9 prior to the usual Hinckley Sunday morning 9-miler. This meant 3 3's before the 9 at 6. Guess what? I did it. So I did manage to eek out a long run for the weekend. I felt a little better.

Today would be different, thought I. Today I'd do a long run, and it would be pretty. In the beginning however, it was starting to look, taste, and smell like last week's stinker. But I somehow got myself moving this time. In fact, my pace got better as the run went on.

This is not to say that the run was at a good pace; it wasn't. But at least the last few (of the twenty) were.

After Akron

The Akron Marathon didn't go as planned. What would? Heck, I don't know. But I gotta find something. A few choices:

Well, first there's the Towpath Marathon. I used to always love this race. The course is now changed, and runners won't even go into the national park anymore. Of course, that was the best part, but I'd be willing to give it another go. IF IT WASN'T THIS SUNDAY. I feel like the kid who hasn't attended class or studied all term, and now has to face a final exam.

The Columbus Marathon is next Sunday. It's another former fav of mine. But the problem is, IT'S NEXT SUNDAY. Too soon once again. I think.

Third choice is the Youngstown Marathon. It's in two weeks. But I looked at the elevation chart. Thar be mountains there. NOPE.

Fourth may be the charm. It's the Veteran's Marathon in central PA that I did last year. I thoroughly enjoyed that one and vowed to return. I prolly will, if I don't do any of the others.