Running worry

For the past few weeks I have been feeling fear sneaking in. Running fear. Injury fear. Training is going amazingly well. I am learning more and more about my running persona. I feel more and more confident in what I can do with my running. And swimming. But the fear is mainly running related. And I need to put it behind.

I wrote my training plan for a 3:20 marathon goal. Although I do follow the plan's schedule, I am waaay ahead of the paces I am supposed to run. Ex. My first 20 miler was supposed to be average 8:38. It was 7:55. My 13 miler this weekend was supposed to be average 7:53. It was 7:33. My tempo was supposed to be 6 miles average 7:24. It was 7:08. The only workout where I am sticking with the time provided by my plan are track workouts, and even there I am always a few seconds faster.

Although I love these times, and they are in no way all out efforts, I fear injury. I do my part to avoid it - sleep, nutrition, icebaths followed by hot showers, calcium, strength exercises galore - and so far so good. I had the same issue when I trained for Baystate, but the discrepancies between planned and actual paces was not as large, and it started happening later in the training cycle. I still have 2 months of training left, and am wondering whether I am running too fast too soon? My mileage is fairly low (sub 50), and I am feeling great (I am looking forward to every run, as I always am), so I don't worry about "overtraining'. What are your thoughts? Slow down, keep it up, share your wisdom with me!

Learning to swim

The past 2 weeks I have had some breakthrough with my swimming. Since October, I have been working hard at teaching myself the crawl. It's been tough, mainly because progress has been limited, and for a long time I managed to swim only about 100ms without stopping.

This past Friday before the swim, I sat myself down and thought a lot about swimming, and what was holding me back. Obviously cardiovascularly I was fine. Lung capacity was fine, too, as I managed to swim one pool length while taking only one breath. In thinking back at past swim sessions I realized that: 1) I panicked when I was getting out of breath, 2) I forced myself to swim every 3 strokes, even though at times every 5 would have been fine, and at other times I needed to swim every 2 strokes, 3) I had moments when I forgot to kick, and felt I was sinking; in these moments instead of slowing down, I would speed up, get out of breath, and need to stop. So I decided to swim relaxed, breath whenever, breath more when I sense panic, slow down when I want to move faster, and think of the water as my friend. And it worked. On Friday last week I swam 400m crawl without stopping in about 9 minutes. Today I swam 2X500ms in about 12 minutes each (I use the pool's clock, and it is hard to get a good look since it is placed perpendicular to the length of the pool). I was not out of breath after these intervals, and I could have gone faster. I started a schedule that will help me become able to swim comfortably 1.2 miles in 12 more weeks. Can't wait!

I used to think that I depend on running to much. That was before the biking and the swimming. I would be afraid of getting a running injury, because running was the only form of exercise that I truly enjoyed. Now I feel much more in control, knowing that if I can't run, I can certainly swim and bike. And I can't wait to see how much I can improve in all three sports!

Random thoughts

# I loved Katie's response to my previous post on pain and suffering. Her take is that of the really awesome athletes, who talk about being able to be in the zone while racing, fully concentrated on the task at hand, without pain and suffering. I remember reading about Jack Fultz's Boston Marathon win and he describes a similar experience. Joan Benoit Samuelson, too. And many others that I don't remember. I wonder how one can get there? Is that a function of being completely unafraid of pain, able to fully concentrate on the run and block everything else: life, other runners, etc, and just be, yourself and the run. Is that a function of not entertaining and mental chatter about how much more you have left, what is coming ahead, and being focused only on the task of running. I have never been able to do that. How about you?

# I love, love my long runs. The longer the better. I love to run them alone now. I love to be able to listen to my podcasts, music, etc, be anonymous, able to observe or space out!

# My training plan works. I am getting faster. My comfortable pace is getting faster. It's happening again before my brain can fully understand this, and I feel a bit shocked to see my times on the Garmin. Gosh, last year around this time I was thrilled with 20 milers at 9 min/mile pace. Now I am running them sub 8, with less pain, minimal or no muscle soreness. Last year around this time my knees and feet were killing me, and now I am pain free. I guess my body is getting used to the load... Feels great.

# I love winter running and racing. I love not having to wake up at 5am to run before it gets very hot out. I love that my face is tanned in the winter and people keep asking me whether I just got back from somewhere warm. I love that winter does not get to me. In New England, most people I know get tired of winter by February. I don't. I love when my cheeks get red from the cold, when I smell fresh cold air, and warm up with a grande latte afterwards.

# I did not make it into the Half at Hamptons Half marathon. I did not register on time. Bummer. I wanted to run a flat and fast half, but I'll have to wait until spring/summer. I did register for the Bedford Half marathon. This one is hilly, but perhaps a better prep for Boston. I am still planning on PRing there.

On runners' language and pain

I keep thinking about a conversation I had at the Derry race with a woman I had briefly met before. We were talking about our goals for the race, and I said that I wanted to push myself and suffer. She raised her eyebrows and said, "Well, I just want to have fun". Then she turned to our common friend Mary and said: "She wants to suffer, I want to have fun. Suffer, have fun". I did not make much of it, until later, when Mary apologized for her, saying that she is going through a tough time. Mary was concerned I was offended. I was not. Honestly. This is not because I have thick skin (which I do, if I don't know you or you don't mean much to me, you won't offend me, no matter what you say). My take on this was that she did not get my language. For her suffering meant a bad thing, so understandably she was puzzled. For me, suffering meant a means to an end, a good thing, something I want to master, something that will make me a stronger runner.

Runners (and here I mean those who race, as opposed to those who run for fitness) speak a different language. Runners have different meanings and perceptions of words and emotions. A typical person is repulsed by pain - evolutionary, we are predispose to overreact to pain and avoid it, because typically pain means something life threatening; why would anyone want that? Runners have a different meaning for pain. Pain means I am running well. Pain means I am pushing myself. Pain means I am giving my all. The only pain I don't like is the pain from an injury. That's the pain I give in to (I did not use to, but I know better now). Instead of avoiding the pain, runners (try to) embrace it!

I was told many times that I must have a high threshold for pain. I actually don't think I do. Yes, I have been known to ask my dentist to do a filling without anesthesia bc I wanted to be able to go back to work and talk thereafter, but in many parts of the world people don't have the luxury of anesthesia or pain control, so I don't think that is a big deal. I don't think the issue is pain threshold. The issue is attitude toward pain and fear of pain. If you fear pain, you are giving it power and you are going to have a hard time with it in life or in running. Fear makes the body to tense up, your biochemistry to change, thoughts to get more negative, sensations (pain ) more intense. The vicious cycle starts and ultimately you slow down. Or give in. Or avoid. Or convince yourself that you can't take it instead of trying to prove yourself that you can.

Running lets us explore pain and learn to master it in a controlled situation. And that is a good thing, because if there is one guarantee in life, that is ....pain.

First 20 miler: frozen water bottles, speed, and meeting Jack Fultz

I was very excited about my 20 miler today. Why? Many reason, if you are curious: 1) my mom and husband kept telling me how cold it is going to be today and how I should not run, 2) a couple of my running buddies declined to join me for part of my run because "it's too cold for me", 3) I had lots of interesting podcasts but no time to listen to them.

The thermometer recorded 2 degrees this morning. I was all bundled up with my Nike tights with fleece lining (they do add 5 lbs, but oh, so worth it!), 2 shirts, running vest, wool arm warmers, balaclava and gloves. After a mile or so my forehead was frozen so I went into a Walgreens and bough myself a $1.99 hat. All warm and cozy, I was all set for my 20 miler. The plan was to have an easy run, and keep the pace @ 8:20-8:30, not faster. I raced last Sunday and had some kick ass runs this week, including a 3 mile tempo @ 6:34, so I wanted to give my legs a chance to recover. The plan worked for .....about 8 miles. At mile 8 I had some hills and wanted to run them a bit faster. I did. I took a gel at mile 10 (Chocolate #9, it's awesome) with the tiny bit of water that I was able to get out of my frozen bottles (yes, even hot water eventually freezes...). My pace was 8:15 average at the half point. So, of course, how can I go slower? Plus, all my water bottles were frozen, so I had to get home quickly to avoid dehydration.... Looking at my splits all my last 10 miles were sub 8s. At mile 15 on my way back I was very thirsty. And then I saw them, the Dana Farber Marathon team table with water bottles! Water bottles! I passed by, but then I turned around and told them I'd like to buy one. Of course they offered one for free. I started talking story about the frozen water bottles, and then I realized that one of the people at the stand was Jack Fultz! So I introduced myself and started talking marathon. It was great! I had a hard time unfreezing the tops of my bottles, so he actually did that for me, and filled my water bottles. This man is so humble, sitting in the freezing cold, cheering on the DF team, and filling water bottles for fans with frozen hands like myself. After about 5 minutes I left. Any wander that my last splits were all sub 7:30, with the last 2 7:10?

Stats: 20.5 miles, 20@ 7:53 (this, by the way, was my MP by Garmin at Baystate in October).

I was super happy with the run, mostly because I felt great. Sure, the last miles were hard, but that's expected! I really think that my race last weekend has done wanders for my speed, and I am very excited about the other races that I have planned before Boston. This is different than my usual approach, where I race very little, if at all before a marathon. I have a feeling that I am going to rock Boston if I don't get injured. I do have to tame down the speed, but I am a speed addict (not that kind of speed), so I can't help it....I am really enjoying the journey without focusing solely on the destination, and that is a good thing!

Fate, probabilities...and some running, of course

I tend to think in probabilities. Perhaps this has something to do with my line of work, or perhaps this is just my make-up. I have always been a bit of a skeptic, always looking for the evidence, always challenging my intuitions and looking for proof. This has served me well, I believe, in that I don't nurse any fears that are not justified (and when I do, I challenge them). I know, for example, that my chances of dieing of colon cancer are very high (since everyone on my mom's side seems to get it sooner or later), much higher than, dieing in a train car on the red line, going from Charles MGH to Alewife (since I take the train 3 times/week, and really, when did you last hear of someone dieing due to a malfunction on the red line?). Today, though, the probabilities turned on me. I was in the last car of the train and after one stop, I start smelling gas. I look around and see others getting a bit impatient. The smell starts getting stronger and stronger, and the fumes are making it harder and harder to see and breath. The train keeps going. I feel trapped and start thinking about, well, what if we don't make it to the station. People start standing up and looking around. Noone says anything, though, which strikes me as unusual, since in moments of fear I tend to want to connect. Some people even keep on reading (????). The train enters Central square, and while I get out, I see flames in a car ahead. I jot out of the train station while the conductor starts screaming :"I don't know what the hell is wrong".

I still don't know what the hell was wrong. Perhaps on the news tonight I will hear some version of what happened. I hope everyone on the train was OK. It's situations like this where you wonder about things like fate (or shall we call it, chance). Sometimes a small probability can get you quicker than a big one. But of course it does not help anyone to think this way. I should just tell myself that my chances of getting into any issues on the red line are getting very close to 0 after this incident. And that would be true, and even enough in a day or so.

So I did go for the run. 9 miles on sore quads, with 2x1600m @ 6:18 and 6:15, and 2X800m @ 6:04 and 6:01. Not to bad for having raced on Sunday. Then I played all evening with my boys!

Boston prep 16 miler race report aka practicing death one hill at a time

Garmin results: 16.06m, 2:05:11, 7:47 pace (and for brief moments I actually felt like I was jetting around like a 747)
Official results: 16m, 2:04:11, 7:50 pace (9/94 30-39 AG; 23/279 gender)
When I posted my racing schedule for 2010, I noted that I will run the Derry Boston Prep 16 miler as a training run, @ 8:25 pace. But then I changed my mind. You see, I have a running confidence issue. I always start races too slow, and end up feeling like I could have gone faster. I am a strong believer in exposure therapy; you fear something, you go do what you fear. Simple on paper, not always in practice. The thing is, it works. So I set out today to start out too fast. It was easier than I thought, mostly because I had no idea how to pace a hilly 16 miler and because the race did not really amount to much (it's not a half marathon/marathon/10K/5K, it is an automatic PR, it is early in training, I have not run this race before, so there was no "race time" that I had to beat, etc, etc). So after a couple of miles I got enough space to pick it up. And I did. By mile 6 I was at a 7:25 min/mile average, feeling good in spite of the rolling hill. I knew that I am going to pay for this in a major way, but, the endorphins were doing their magic, and I really did not care about the near future. By mile 8 I started to feel some pain in my legs. Looking at my splits, my pace was anything but even. Heck, it was the most uneven I've ever run. I think I started to slow down around mile 9, when the hills got steeper, and the downhills shorter. I kept waiting and waiting for the monster 1.5 mile hill at mile 10.5, and let me tell you it did not disappoint. A quarter mile into it and I had to walk. My quads were done. It did not help that others were also walking....I guess misery loves company. I walked/ran this 1.5 mile section, not paying attention to the "and why are you doing this?" kinda thoughts, and telling myself that after mile 12 the hills will get easier. And they did. And I managed to pick up the pace a little, which felt good. I pushed the pace a bit, but then more hills showed up on the horizon and I slowed down. I finally picked it up on the last mile, which thank goodness it was downhill.
Here are my splits:
Mile 1: 7:57
Mile 2: 7:27
Mile 3: 7:00
Mile 4: 7:24
Mile5: 8:01
Mile 6: 7:38
Mile 7: 7:34
Mile 8: 7:28
Mile 9: 7:39
Mile 10: 8:20 -the monster hill
Mile 11: 8:32 - the monster hill
Mile 12: 9:03 - the monster hill
Mile 13: 7:39
Mile 14: 7:54
Mile 15: 7:54
Mile 16: 7:12
.06: 6:22

Overall I am happy that I started out too fast. It led to some good old suffering, which is what I needed. I think this will help me with future races, in that it will give me the confidence to start out faster than I think I can go, as opposed to regretting going too slow when the race is over. I am a little disappointed that I did not really care much about this race and my finishing pace. I did not work the race mentally. I could have certainly run all the hills, I could have certainly run the last few miles faster. But I did not. Normally I work hard to pass women who are in front of me, but not this time. Before races that are important to me, I work out the mental part a lot, but I did not do any of that this time. I am still super happy with my time, and have confidence that I can run a 7:40 pace in Boston 3 months from now. Blah, blah, blah...

Onto more exciting things.... I got to meet Mary which was fun. She ran a kick ass race, as expected (7:30 pace or something impressive like that!!!). She is exactly how I expected her to be, a little nice ball of energy! My friend Mary also had a great race, even though her furthest run lately has been 12 miles. So now, I can't wait to race again. Can you believe it? A few hours ago I was swearing running off (well, not really), and now I can't wait to race again! I think the DSM-IV needs a new diagnosis, something like Runner's Insanity Syndrome, NOS.