Thoughts on Tapering - and Friday

Sometimes people ask me why I continue to do marathons.   I'm obviously much better at short-distance events, and they really can take a lot out of you.

Although cycling is my favorite of the three sports, marathoning gives me something I never get from long-distance cycling. Maybe it's partly my internal desire for more control.  The other day, while running along with my Cycling Mentor, I was explaining to her that there's so much less to go wrong on a run than a bike, and that I know even if I have to stop to walk I will still move forward.  On a bike, though, so many things can happen that are out of your control: your chain can drop; your tire can pop; your gears can fail you.  And if you need to rest, tough.  You gotta keep pedaling or you don't move.

And, while I also love to swim, I definitely don't get as much out of swimming, which my poor confused brain still - even after several hundred-thousand-yard years of drills and lakes and 2.5-mile ocean swims - STILL equates with banana daiquiris and pool boys and vacations. 

No, marathoning is a spiritual experience for me.

Sometimes I start out the season hating the long runs and wishing they'd end; other times I start out hating my speedwork and just wanting to run long and easy.  Sometimes certain muscles are weaker than others.  There are always laughs; there are always tears.  Actually running for 5 hours straight, especially through another city, is nothing short of transformative. 

Every year that I am marathon training, I learn something new.  Sometimes it's a little simple thing like how to lace my shoes; other times, it's something huge like how much more powerful the mind and spirit are than the body.  I have learned that, while cycling is my social sport and I'd rather not ride alone, it is hard for me to run with others. 

This year I learned what a real taper is.  Usually my taper is pretty drastic (big reduction) and early (4-6 weeks out).  This is partly because it's usually been forced by illness. This year my taper didn't begin until 3 weeks before the race, and each week my mileage only decreases by 2, 3, maybe 5 miles. So it doesn't feel like a sudden drop, but instead a gradual release.

Probably the way it was supposed to feel all along.

And now, since this has been a rather serious entry, let's talk about how excited I am that it's Friday.
I shouldn't be excited because I still have exams and a "long" run of 10-11 miles before I can do anything relaxing or productive . . . but I am.

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Rescue Me (AKA Week 17 of the NYC Plan)

Dear Taper,

 

I heart you.

 

No, seriously.  I SUPER heart you.

 

Now that I was able to figure out the trip to NYC, things have been cooking right along on the training front: relatively little pain or fatigue; no real injuries to speak of; regularly logging 5-8 hours of running a week (30-40 miles most weeks). Did a half and a 15k as training races - didn't PR at either - but had some great times with my 800 repeats and the best mileage I've ever completed.

 

This is also the most consistent I have ever been with my marathon training.   I ran the MAJathon and felt like a champ running 26.2 miles over two days.  I even learned to love certain things about treadmill running.  Big change from last year, when I was both sick and injured and had to run my long run just 10 days prior to the race (not even 2 weeks - 10 days - which essentially put me running my long run only a little more than a week pre-race!)

 

And then it happened.

 

I made a Rescue Call for the first time in years.

 

 

I had dropped weights the week of the half marathon and tapered down to just running.   It was Week 17; the last long week of the plan. I had 40 miles to complete, including 16-18, then 2 on Saturday (what I call the Double Down) and another 4 Sunday. I had decided to meet some old running friends for 11 of the 16-18 morning miles on Saturday morning. 

I knew I was tired, I have a little of The Dead Leg, I've been running a lot, and it's time to Taper.   The group started out faster than I like to start, but I figured I'd leave them after 11 miles, back off a little, push through The Tired and come out the other side like usual.  But I felt like I was working so hard and my heart rate was barely in zone 1/2.  That's when The Tired got me.  And that's when the Rescue Call was placed.  (Well, Rescue Text.)

Come get me. I can't run anymore.

Then I went home and climbed back in bed for a while.

I was having an awful hypo spell.  I forgot they could be this bad. My B12 is a little low - Story For Another Blog - I missed my thyroid meds that morning (fell right out of my hand and I found them on the kitchen counter) and well . . . I've been killing it.  I used to do speedwork once a week; now I do it twice. I am running more miles, faster, than I ever have when training for a marathon.  Let's not forget The Story For Another Blog stuff  like grad school, merging cat households, the family . . .

And you know what?  I am glad this happened.  It told me a couple things.

First, that I needed a rest.  So I took one.  You can't always just push through The Tired.
Second, that this JUST happened (The Tired) mere weeks before the marathon.  It happened when it was time to taper.  It didn't FORCE my taper.  (That has happened before, nearly every time.)

In fact - I don't want to jinx myself by saying it - but I haven't even gotten really sick before this race like I have in the past.

Fingerscrossedfingerscrossedfingerscrossedfingerscrossedfingerscrossed

I am SO ready for that taper.

If this is a Rescue Call, then I am calling my ass off.

Maybe not Calling Gloria, though.