Tough run ... (2)

This morning, I ran a 20-miler, the last long run of a 16-week marathon training plan (Intermediate-High Mileage from the Run Your Boston Qualifier community). The run was a totally drenching one--and not from any rain! It was a tough one. I'm not sure if it was just the need to acclimatize to the higher temperature and humidity of summer or not bringing enough water, but I'd to struggle to get to the end of Mile 20. My plan was to run it as 4 segments (6.5, 5.5, 4.5, and 3.5), with 3 water-walking stops (2-3 min. @). The first 2 segments went fine, But, after Mile 13, at the end of a hill, I just felt I had to stop (not sure if the legs felt the same). I ended up walking a full mile, all the while debating with myself whether to take the direct route home and thus cutting the run to 16 miles or run the planned route and walk as needed. This being the last long run, I decided on the latter. I ran to 16.5, walked another 0.5, before running the rest of the way home. That second half of the run was almost entirely mental. It was as interesting as it was frustrating. Last year, on an early summer 10-mile run, I had a similarly tough run. Anyways, the 2-week taper begins tomorrow, ending with the Grandfather Mountain Marathon. Hopefully, these 2 weeks will allow me to struggle to get to the end of Mile 26.2!

Intestinal runs

No, not that kind!

By "intestinal runs," I mean running routes that go into and out of every cul-de-sac. It's actually quite amazing how long a distance this kind of route can cover within a total physical space that's not that big--just as with the human intestine(!). In my immediate neighborhood, the intestinal loop route is about 3 miles. If I veer out to include the nearby community library, then that loop is about 3.7 mi. A few weeks ago, I had a scheduled 12-mile Sunday run, and I decided to do it by running this neighborhood-library intestinal loop (3 times plus another mile or so, for a total of 12 mi). During the run, this came to mind: 7 of these loops would be close to a marathon. Somehow, a marathon of 7 such neighborhood loops seems easier/shorter than a typical marathon. More recently, I had a scheduled 10-mile weekday run, and I decided to do it by expanding the intestinal run to encompass a larger community, one that includes intestinal routes of 3 other neighborhoods plus a loop around the local high school. The latter is at the farthest point of this loop route from my house (~1.5 mi). Thus, at any point of the route, I'm within an easy 30-minute walk from home. The other advantage is that, for the longer runs, I don't need to carry water or fuel. Home is the water/fuel stop! Unless, of course, I want to train for carrying water and fuel during races. With this 10-mile loop as well, it seems 2 of them plus a 10K, together, is easier and shorter than a typical marathon. All of this is just mental, of course; the distance is still 26.2! And, I've no idea how I might use this perception in running actual marathons. But, for the long training runs, breaking them down into shorter segments, one cul-de-sac at a time, helps to make the runs seem easier/shorter (cf. Running WBS for an analogous strategy for long treadmill runs).

Punctuated equilibria - recent examples

In a previous post ("Attacking the Hills ..."), I wrote about the adaptation curve being like a stair-stepped function, in which improvements in running come not as steady continual shavings in time but as occasional significant drops in time, kind of like a running version of punctuated equilibria. The latter is the paleontological theory advanced by Niles Eldredge and Stephen Jay Gould in their famous paper, "Punctuated equilibria: an alternative to phyletic gradualism." This theory is stated as follows:

1. Current theory colors perception (of facts), so that new ideas rarely arise from facts collected under that perception.
2. (At the time) current paleontology's view of speciation was dominated by "phyletic gradualism," i.e., new species arise from the slow and steady transformation of entire populations. Thus, all breaks in the fossil record reflect imperfections in the record.
3. Theory of geographic speciation suggests a different interpretation of the data. A new species does not evolve in the area, and does not arise from the slow transformation, of its ancestors. Thus, many breaks in the fossil record are real.
4. History of evolution is one of homeostatic equibria, disturbed (punctuated) once in a long while by rapid and episodic events of speciation.

This theory has more recently been applied to the pattern of change and innovation in international regime complexes. And, in the areas of technology and business, there's the related theory of disruptive innovation by Clayton Christensen (The Innovator's Dilemma); although the latter, I think, is closer to the often-heard "thinking outside of the box" than to punctuated equilibria. To think outside of the box means one is aware of the box and can imagine an outside, whereas the ancestors of new species could not have been aware, and could not have imagined being outside, of any box. Can inhabitants of Flatland imagine a third dimension?

Of course, with running, one is aware of the current box and can imagine being on the outside. I can imagine, e.g., running a sub-3-hour marathon. :) So, running is probably also closer to "thinking outside of the box" than to punctuated equilibria. But, it's fun to think about it as the latter!

Some recent examples. At the Walnut Creek International Half Marathon in California (December 2012), I took a small step up the adaptation curve. It actually didn't feel as I was pushing particularly hard during the race. So, when I saw my finish time (1:51), I was amazed! It was more than 8 minutes faster than my previous PR. What had happened for me to be able to run at a more than 30 seconds faster average pace than that of my previous half marathon (Frederick, May 2012)? My 2013 Frederick Half's time was another drop to a new PR (1:46:34). My Pike's Peek 10K time in April this year (46:11) was some 3.5 minutes faster than my 2012 time. That's also a 30-second drop in pace. And, most recently, I ran a 5K in May with a time (22:54) that was 31 seconds faster than my previous PR. The 5K result was the sweetest, because the previous PR was from 1997, some 16 years ago. It is--still--mostly a matter of training and adaptation. :)

Now, I did just complete my road runners club's winter marathon training program that was aimed at the Rock 'n' Roll Marathon back in March of this year. So, all the drops in time and new PR's could just be because I'd been training more. That's what my coach says. But, what about the Walnut Creek Half, which was before the winter program? Perhaps there are certain things we do in training (beyond the "more" aspect), certain small adjustments we make (both physically and mentally)--without being aware of them--that lead to these punctuated drops in time?