I don’t usually talk about my running on here other than to update you all on my latest long run, but John’s post last week inspired me!
I first caught the running bug in college. I was never a runner before then. Like John, I played soccer for years and years. Once that ship started to sail, I figured I needed to find something else to keep me in shape. Luckily I was paired with a crazy runner girl (seen here and here) as my freshman roommate.
By our junior year, I could no longer fight her off and she convinced me that I was capable of running The Riverbank Run in Grand Rapids, MI (a 25k/15.5 miles). I took the bait and trained my little toosh off for 5 months, rocked the 25k and was hooked. Since then I have done 2 half marathons, a few 10ks, 5ks and now I am in full marathon training mode. I really didn’t know what I was getting myself into befriending a runner!
Up until last weekend, marathon training was going swimmingly. After every long run, I felt great! Couldn’t be stopped. Didn’t feel like I did that much work. I read all of these things are great to be feeling after a long run. You should feel like you could keep going if you had to, don’t push too hard on weekend runs, keep it easy-breezy. I was still nervous every night before a long run (can I really run that far? What if I bonk? What if I get injured? What if, what if, what if?) no matter how much I had trained. There are just so many unknowns in running and John is constantly reminding me to stop thinking about it. All of those worries can happen to any runner, even the most elite. Every day and every run is different and unpredictable.
My 16 miler on Sunday. I bonked. My knees hurt. I was sick to my stomach. I wanted to quit every quarter mile. Pretty much every fear I had of a long run all rolled into one. When I woke up that morning (5am came reeeeally early!) I had a bad feeling about the run. I wasn’t really looking forward to it like I had with the rest of my long runs. Luckily, I had a training partner to keep me motivated to actually hit the road. Otherwise, I might have stayed in bed on Sunday.
After I woke up, I did what I always do. I used my iPhone’s flashlight app to navigate to the bathroom and got dressed for the cold run ahead. Two layers of tights, check. Under Armour, check. Socks and shoes, check. I braided my hair and headed downstairs; but not before John could whisper “I’m proud of you”. Thanks, dear. I needed that.
I ate my normal pre run breakfast; half of a Clif Peanut Butter Bar and some water. That wasn’t sitting well from the start. It was like a rock in my gut, which was weird. I packed the other half for my mid run fuel and started my mental preparation for the 16 miles. Betsy showed up at 6:00 and we were out the door just a few minutes later.
It was pretty chilly out. That nasty, damp, not quite winter, not quite spring cold. The first few miles were okay, because that’s usually when we do most of our talking, so it keeps my mind off the 3-4 mile warmup. I took my first bite of Clif Bar around mile 6 and my mouth was so dry it took me a few minutes to swallow (note to self, never take a Clif Bar to eat during a run). It took the edge off of my hunger, though, for a few miles. By about mile 8, I wanted to give up and go home, crawl back into bed and finish the run another time. I couldn’t imagine running another 8 miles! My stomach was in knots and my knees were starting to ache, but I had to keep going. I kept telling myself, “just get it over with” and “you’ll feel so much better when it’s done”.
I started setting tiny goals for myself throughout the last half of the run. I would look out ahead of me, see a point and tell myself to make it there. There were a million tiny checkpoints for that run. I knew if I thought too hard about having X amount of miles left, I would have given up. So as to not overwhelm myself, I got myself through quarter mile by quarter mile. Every hill felt like a mountain and even the downhills were challenging.
When we were one turn away from our starting point, I asked Betsy how we were doing. She told me “13.33” and I about died. I said “that can’t be right” (I thought we were less than a mile away from finishing). She didn’t really say anything, probably thinking I was a crazy person! A few minutes later, she said “that’s 16 right here” and again, I almost died! I told her I totally thought she said we had only run 13 miles and I couldn’t believe my ears. That last 0.64 miles was probably the longest ever because at that point you could have knocked me over with a feather. I had just about nothing left and couldn’t imagine having to pull off over 2 more miles.
It was probably the most mentally and physically exhausting run I have ever tackled. I am pretty proud that I finished at all under the circumstances. After analyzing what the heck went wrong, I came up with a few things that I probably should have done differently.
I definitely didn’t fuel enough during the run. Fueling has never been a strong point for me, but the weekend before (15 miles) I decided to try some candy during the run and it worked wonders! I really hate the texture of GU and Shot Bloks so when I read about some people fueling with candy, I was sold. I love candy. Candy I can work with! On Sunday, I didn’t have any candy, hence taking the Clif Bar with me. During the whole run, peanut butter was not appetizing to me at all. I wanted something sweet and sour to help with my cotton mouth, and the bar was making everything worse and just sitting in my already fragile tummy. Next time I know to keep it sweet on my runs!
I ate like crap the night before. Pizza Hut $10 box is a HUGE no-no the night before a big run. It should probably always be a no-no, but I just love Pizza Hut! I probably should have stuck with pasta and water. Now I know for sure!
I didn’t get enough sleep. My family was in town, so I stayed up just a little too late watching a movie. Tackling a 16 mile run would be tough enough on 10 hours asleep and I only got 5.
I think I had a stomach bug. To be fair to me, I didn’t know this was happening until I returned from my run. When I got back I was clammy and shaky and achey. I thought I was just starving but eating made me want to keel over. Later I heard that my sister (who was just visiting the day before) was feeling the same way. And the next day my mom had the same thing going on. I put 1 and 1 and 1 together and got 3. Stomach bug. Yuck.
I don’t strength train at all enough. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. It’s so boring! And there are no instant results like “wow, I just ran 16 miles. That’s amazing”. I don’t ever say “wow, I just did 15 burpees”. I say “I hate burpees, they are the worst and now I have to do 15 more x2”. John is always on me about strength training and I know he’s right. Ugh.
Even though it was such a terrible run, I’m glad it happened. I was starting to get a little too confident and lax in my training and this was just the slap in the face I needed. I’ve always heard that it’s good to have a mentally tough run here and there so you know you can get through anything. I don’t know if I’m quite there, but I know now that I am mentally tough. I can push through a lot of pain and wanting to quit to reach my goals. I think that will probably come in handy during the marathon around mile 18 when I want to pass out!
