Tapering focus

Or, focus in tapering.

Got to remind myself to stay focused, during these two weeks of taper before Wineglass. First, last Friday, I stubbed my right little toe at home, while walking into the laundry room, right before Saturday's 8K race. (Fortunately, I routinely train in Vibram FiveFingers (VFF), and, with its own toe pocket, that little toe was pretty happy, throughout the entire race.) Then, on this morning's run, I took a skin-scraping tumble in the parking lot of the local high school. The run was a 6-miler, and I did the middle 3 on the brand new school track (very nice!). To get there on the way home, I ran across the school parking lot, and, somehow, my right shoe (VFF) got caught on something and fleetingly stuck, which resulted in the following you-know-it's-happening-but can't-do-anything-about-it sequence of scraping contacts with the concrete pavement: Left heel (hard), right hand, left hand, left wrist, left elbow, left hip, and, finally, a Judo roll onto the back. This morning was also the local town’s annual parade, which starts at the high school, and there were many people there in the parking lot assembling for the parade. So, my tumble was a rather public one! The sting from the scrapes will be mostly gone by tomorrow. The only thing that will take a few days to recover is the right toe, next to that stubbed little toe, which got a bit bruised in the tumble and now has joined its neighbor in the pre-race recovery ward. I think both should be fine by the time Wineglass starts.

What got me thinking about this is that, in all my years (decades) of running, I've never taken a fall like this during a run (just a handful of stumbles). That I was looking at the parade preparation and not completely paying attention to the run probably contributed to the tumble. But, I suspect something about the taper in general also was a factor. After 14 weeks of speed work, strides, hill repeats, tempo runs, and long runs, with weekly mileage increasing to over 60 just before tapering, there is, perhaps, a certain sense of having made it to the top and being able to cruise the rest of the way to the start line and, with that, a certain slackening from that total focus of the previous weeks leading up to the taper. The mind gets more easily distracted, not the least from thinking about the upcoming race, for which all these weeks of early morning training have been dedicated.

Lesson for me: Stay focused during taper and get to the start line healthy! And, don’t go barefoot around the house … nah, probably not; I’m a minimalist! :)

Running on water

Recently, there was some discussion in the online RYBQ community about the difficulty sometimes of getting oneself out the door to run. That got me thinking once again about the deep, philosophical question of why I run. Which is the same as that other deep, philosophical question of who am I. Je cours donc je suis, right? What’s that? That’s not quite what Descartes said? Ah, same difference! J I’ve said this before: I’ve never gone out running and come back regretting it, even on those days when, lying in bed after the alarm has gone off and listening to the wind whipping snow against the window panes and the weather guy on the radio talking about something in the single digits, putting on running shoes and heading out the door would seem not to be the most rational choice. And yet, each time, with shoes laced, out the door I go. Why do I do this? Why does any runner do this? There are probably at least as many answers as there are runners.

For me, one of the answers must be what subsequently happens on a run. The first mile is usually rough and creaky, even with the proper warm-up, as the body tries to wake up. Towards the end of the second mile, however, as the body gradually gets warmed up and moving parts get lubricated, a rhythm begins to take hold. Several miles later, somewhere in the middle of the run (depending on its length), the legs and rest of the body all sync into this rhythm, and the result is as beautiful to feel as chamber music is to hear. This rhythm happens often enough to be a counterpoint to those pre-run self-arguments for going back to sleep. Then, once in a long while, something remarkable happens, when the running becomes seemingly effortless, with the entire body humming like an engine in overdrive, even when going up hills. Smooth and light--like running on water.

Last Sunday’s long run (22 miles) came close to that. It was a sharp contrast to a weekend earlier, when my long run was a 5K race followed by a 17-mile run home (not recommended!). Last Sunday morning, there was no 5K, the temperature was cooler, and the entire body just hummed along. (Average mile splits were about a minute slower than my still-to-be-achieved Boston qualifying marathon pace (MP), with the last three splits negative, ending at MP-9 sec.) It was heavenly.

Running WBS (2)

Earlier this year, I described how I try to pass the time on long treadmill runs, by breaking a long run into shorter segments and running them--especially mentally--one at a time. A kind of Work Breakdown Structure approach. In my current training cycle, preparing for an early October marathon (first try to qualify for Boston!), I'm following an Advanced-Low Mileage plan that has hill repeats every Tuesday: 10 reps, each of length increasing over the weeks to a maximum of 90 seconds, at half marathon pace. For me, the latter pace is about two steps per second. So, for a 90-sec. rep, I'd count to 180. The following is how I break down the 180 count for each of the reps. I do this so I won't miscount within a rep and miscount the number of reps, as well as just for variety.

Here's the WBS:
10 reps --> 5 sets of 2 reps each
Each set of 2 is counted the same way: Set 1: 2 (1 x 1-180); set 2: 2 (2 x 1-90); set 3: 2 (3 x 1-60); set 4: 2 (3 x 1-50 + 30); set 5: 2 (6 x 1-30)
For each set, count the first rep as
1, 2, 3, ..., 10, 11, 12, 13, ..., 20, 21, 22, 23, ...
and second one as
1, 2, 3, ..., 10, 2, 2, 3, ..., 10, 3, 2, 3, ...

So, for example, set 3 would go as follows:
Rep 1: 1, 2, 3, ..., 10, 11, 12, 13, ..., 20, 21, 22, 23, ..., 30, 31, 32, 33, ..., 40, 41, 42, 43, ..., 50, 51, 52, 53, ..., 60, 1, 2, 3, ..., 10, 11, 12, 13, ..., 20, 21, 22, 23, ..., 30, 31, 32, 33, ..., 40, 41, 42, 43, ..., 50, 51, 52, 53, ..., 60, 1, 2, 3, ..., 10, 11, 12, 13, ..., 20, 21, 22, 23, ..., 30, 31, 32, 33, ..., 40, 41, 42, 43, ..., 50, 51, 52, 53, ..., 60
Rep 2: 1, 2, 3, ..., 10, 2, 2, 3, ..., 10, 3, 2, 3, ..., 10, 4, 2, 3, ..., 10, 5, 2, 3, ..., 10, 6, 2, 3, ..., 10, 1, 2, 3, ..., 10, 2, 2, 3, ..., 10, 3, 2, 3, ..., 10, 4, 2, 3, ..., 10, 5, 2, 3, ..., 10, 6, 2, 3, ..., 10, 1, 2, 3, ..., 10, 2, 2, 3, ..., 10, 3, 2, 3, ..., 10, 4, 2, 3, ..., 10, 5, 2, 3, ..., 10, 6, 2, 3, ..., 10

I do these Tuesday hill repeats within my neighborhood, which conveniently has two hills each of about 90 seconds in length. For each set, I alternate between these two hills for the two reps, again, just for variety.

Perhaps more importantly, this WBS approach helps keep my mind busy, so I won't hear the legs complaining that they want to stop (!).

My plan for BQ (The Onion version)

I'm at less than four weeks to my next marathon and my first one to try to qualify for Boston. I have 27 minutes to drop to just qualify, which is probably not fast enough to actually get registered. I probably need at least another five minutes, or a total of 32 minutes. Not realistic? Here are my goals and my plan:

I'm currently at 4:22 (10:00/mi pace) (Rock 'n' Roll USA, March 2013).

To get to my PR of 4:14 (Ithaca Marathon, 1982), I need to drop eight minutes (9:41/mi). How? From the remaining 3+ weeks of training, which includes two more long runs of 21 miles each.

To break 4:00, I need to drop 14 more minutes (9:09/mi). How? Cooler October temperatures, net downhill course (-250 ft), and draft from fellow runners.

To just BQ (3:55), I need to drop five more minutes (8:58/mi). How? Motivational signs and other crowd support.

To have a chance to get registered, I need five more minutes (3:50; 8:46/mi). How? Doppio loading and running on the resulting fumes.

Actually, based on one of those race times predictors, my marathon times predicted from my 2013 5K, 10K, and Half times are 3:40, 3:33, and 3:43, respectively; although my coach Jason says those predicted times assume great or perfect training, in order to realize the predicted potential. So, all together, perhaps my plan for BQ is The Half Onion version.

Thank goodness for the hat!

This morning's 19-mile long run was for week 11 in my current training plan, from the Run Your BQ online community, targeted at an early October marathon. A week ago, I also ran a 19-miler at a 9:50 pace, about a minute slower than my required BQ pace, with two water/Gu walking sections (~0.25 mi. each). Today was quite a bit warmer and more humid, so I was expecting a slower time. The pace turned out to be about a minute slower (10:54), including two additional 0.25 mi. walks--and, mile 20.

Mile 20 on a 19-mile run?

My eyes must have played some kind of trick on me last night, when I estimated the 19-mile loop distance with Google map. The plan was to go from home to almost workplace (~10 mi.) and then to loop part of the way back, for variety. Somehow, I misjudged the total distance by about three miles (!). By the time I realized, it was too late to turn around and retrace the first half of the route; it would have been even longer. So, at mile 19 and with three more to go, I decided to run mile 20 and walk miles 21 & 22 (~20 min. pace). These three additional miles pushed the finish time about an hour closer to noon. With the sun already fairly high up during that last hour, I was sure glad I had my hat on. I started to wear a hat on runs (esp. long runs) at the start of this summer. At the weekly mileage that I'm currently running (50+), the exposure to sun is significant. So, I got a wide brimmed hat with a flap at the back to cover the neck. It makes a difference!