the long-distance runner is (voluntarily) lonely no more

the long-distance runner is (voluntarily) lonely no more

The backstory to this post is that I wrote it for The SF Marathon’s blog, since I’m a social media ambassador for the race (and totally want you to run it! It’s so fun). I’ve had the great pleasure of having family visiting for about the past month, so between all the wonderful family QT and just general life happenings — all good things, all good things — sitting down (or rather, standing) to write hasn’t been much of a priority. I have notes scribbled out, ready to be made coherent, for a handful of posts, so now that life is back to its regularly-scheduled-programming, perhaps my blog-posting regularity (eh), too, will commence. We’ll see. Anyway — yay running. Here you go; I think many of you (my team! my people) will totally get this.

People often ascribe some element of martyrdom to running. It doesn’t really seem to matter if you’re going for a little jaunt around your ‘hood one morning before work or putting in hours upon hours (and miles upon miles) during training for a half, full, or ultramarathon; for whatever reason, if you willingly run, people seem to think that you’re martyring yourself to a fruitless and futile endeavor, one characterized by literally doing the same thing – putting one foot in front of the other – hundreds of thousands of times.

To say that you’re a runner is to give many people the idea that you’ve taken upon the badge of honor that has begotten runners and joggers alike for the past few decades: a loner, someone who’d rather spend time with his or her thoughts than with other sentient beings. Becoming a runner is to add yet another character to the ongoing saga of “the loneliness of the long-distance runner,” a mythology surrounding our sport since the jogging boom of the 1970s. To be a runner is to live in isolation, away from every_one and every_thing, to be forever an introvert, and to be happiest when being alone.

Except that running isn’t a solitary endeavor. It’s as much a team sport as any out there.

There are so many elements to the running community that seem to have withstood the test of time simply because they’re tradition. It’s practically sacrilege to have anything pre-race but pasta, evidenced by many races’ Marathon Eve pasta feeds, wherein many a runner will stuff him- or herself to the gills with the starchy carbohydrate in part to top off glycogen stores (one can hope) but mostly, I’d guess, out of deference to the tradition. Similarly, many in the running community and those who support us perpetuate this ongoing mythology of “the loneliness of the long distance runner,” conjuring images of runners out there pounding pavement each morning to the tune of … nothing.

While the pasta/carbohydrate loading pre-marathon might have a glimmer of basis in science, I’m calling bullshit on “the loneliness of the long distance runner.”

Thanks to the explosion of social media over the past few years and many runners’ willingness to put themselves and their training out there – creating blogs, twitter and instagram profiles, facebook pages, and creating and maintaining training groups through platforms like Strava, Dailymile, or MeetUp – if you’re a) even minutely connected to the internet and b) a runner, chances are you can easily connect yourself with a team (or three).

Running can, of course, be a solitary and singular endeavor – and many people revel in that quiet time to themselves, a time when they don’t need to stress about their work, family, or any other obligation – but it doesn’t have to be.

Maybe this proclamation is a bit melodramatic, but to run – to be a runner – is to connect yourself with prior millenia’s worth of history, dating all the way back to our earliest ancestors whose lives and livelihoods literally depended on their ability to run. Surely I can’t speak for you, but I think it’s pretty badass to (willingly!) do something our ancestors did so long ago. Not many other sports have been around for nearly the entirety of life as we know it.

Running as a team – running and training with friends – brings with it a lot of practical components that can be beneficial. Of course there’s the accountability aspect – because you’d probably feel like an ass if you left your partner high and dry in the predawn hours, when you’re supposed to be out running – but there are also many other ways that running with a team/with friends can help you, such as giving you more opportunities to run a variety of paces (slower or faster than you’d usually run), which in turn might actually make you a better (read: stronger, faster, fitter, healthier) runner. By actively being involved in a community of runners, you can also forge and cultivate some incredible friendships, and you might also find various avenues to link service with your running, since so many races (including TSFM) give you the option to run on behalf of a charity and to fundraise. It’s a pretty cool thing to be able to use a hobby like running to benefit some social good.

In the absence of physically running in real life with a team, social media can also be an acceptable way to join forces with runners near and far – and in the process, create your own virtual team (and even complete a virtual race, if you’re so inclined). Sometimes  overbooked life schedules preclude us from meeting up with our buddies for a run, but virtual teams – virtual accountability, if you will – can also be a lot of fun. It can get the job done.

When you train alongside someone (in real life or virtually), you’re giving yourself a buddy with whom you can incessantly “talk shop” about training, racing, running, or anything else that’s on your mind. Your team “gets it” – all the highs and lows of training, the momentary boosts of confidence and the crippling effects of anxiety and doubt – because chances are, your team is going through the motions just as much as you are.

Running and training for endurance events invariably give us opportunities to be raw and vulnerable as we set goals and work our asses off to realize them. Having a team is to have a sounding board through every step, every mile, of the process, and in our moments of confidence, anxiety, dismay, excitement, and the entire emotional gamut in between, your team’s got your back. Even when you’re running by yourself – because no one can run your race but you – your team’s in your back pocket.

So many people have run before you, and so many more will come after you. The greater running community is like one big hippy dippy happy family, singing kum-by-yah as we run mile after mile each month, sometimes praising our decision to run for fun and other times wondering what the hell is wrong with us that we’d voluntarily enlist ourselves in such a challenging activity.

In the most non-patronizing way possible: your team gets you. Your team understands. We do this for all the same reasons that you do (give or take).

Runners are a welcoming bunch, and I encourage you to put yourself out there and connect with some, either with clubs in your area or with the virtual running community. I think you’ll be surprised how much more enriching this sport becomes once you realize that yes, while no one else can run your mileage but you, being on a running team isn’t an oxymoron. If there’s any doubt in your mind, just watch the USA women’s Olympic Qualifying Trials from the LA Marathon on 2/13/16. I don’t want to reveal any spoilers (in the off-chance you haven’t already seen the ending), but believe me: the OQT will assure you that running is as team-based an endeavor as they come. I dare you not to tear up.

Modesto Marathon training: the second bit

Modesto Marathon training: the second bit

I think it’s safe to say with over 237 miles for January – with weeks looking like 50+ (x2) & 60+ (x2) – that we are in the thick of marathon training. YAY!! I really like it here.

Aside from the typical general aerobic and recovery runs, the key workouts and a high-level overview:

1/9: 11 miles with miles 4-7 at tempo (6:55-7:05 tempo target, 7, 7:06, 7:10 actuals)

Totally got my ass handed to me the first time I tried this run. I ran to a cinder and dirt track near home, and between just feeling off, the rain, the puddles on the track, and the wind (why is it always windy on tracks?), I couldn’t dial in the paces to save my life. I also had some GI issues right up until I began the tempo portion. This was a little mentally frustrating because not long before, I had nailed a 3 mile tempo (and had PR’ed my 5k in the process), but that’s running sometimes. I was frustrated but just thought of the big picture and kept going.

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muddy stems

1/10: 17 miles with Meredith along the rollers (7:45-8:45 LR target, 8:04 avg)

Always thankful for running buddies for the long runs, though this morning’s run started out a bit rough thanks to a random creeper just hangin’ out. Ugh. Once that nonsense stopped, the run was actually pretty smooth, and Meredith and I had a good time running across my city and the neighboring ‘burb and a little over 400’ of rollers. Most of the uphills aren’t until the ‘back’ portion of the run, so it’s an especially good Boston simulator for her, and it just makes it extra fun.

1/16: 11 with miles 4-7 at tempo (6:47, :54, :47)

Another dreary Saturday in the early morning hours, so I decided to go to a different, non-dirt, non-cinder track for my tempo miles. I have been trying to make a conscious effort to dial in the pace on these tempo runs a bit because paces are prescribed for a reason. Running on a rubberized track when it’s raining and windy, and therefore hitting the prescribed paces, FTW, baby. This was a confidence-boosting run.

1/17: 17+ LR in pieces: 13.17 @ 9:23 avg (with 1,107′ gain) + 4.35 @ 7:47 avg

Saurabh had arrived back to the Bay Area the day before, so we decided a meet-up to run-up Monument Peak was in order. Apparently I had stupidly not taken into consideration how incredibly muddy and wet the trails would be – the pull-your-shoes-off-your-feet, take-one-step-up-the-hill-and-slide-back-down type of mud – and after just a few miles of that, we (at my lead) decided to bag it since I wanted to finish the LR as quickly as possible. We ended up just running around the park instead, picking up some decent non-super-muddy hill climbs. Saurabh stopped around 7 miles, and since I had been gone for a while by now, I felt my milk coming in (breastfeeding FTW) and knew that I’d just get progressively more uncomfortable, so I left my car at the park and just ran home. Do what you gotta do sometimes! I eventually got home, and literally as I was walking in the door, the baby was waking up, ready to eat. It wasn’t until much later in the day, post-brunch, that I got out to finish up the balance of the LR, but I did it. I don’t want to make a habit out of breaking up my LRs like this, but I gotta accommodate life (and my boobs), so whatevs. It worked. And hooray for actually feeling pretty great post-MP attempt, despite my lack of climbing over the past month and change.

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still pretty

1/23: 12 miles with 4-8 @ tempo (6:46, 49, 52, 45)

Back to my fav rain-friendly track since, again, it was a pretty dreary morning. I was pretty dubious that I wouldn’t die of GI distress during this run because my husband and I had a lovely date night the night prior, and my dinner consisted of movie theatre concessions… and popcorn is full of delicious fiber, gang. Fortunately, my guts held it together and didn’t decide to party until the CD miles. During the tempo, just like the week before, I tried to stay within striking range of my prescribed paces but started too quickly and began a slow burn before rallying for the final mile. I’d much rather start a tempo too slowly and negative split it than start too quickly and positive split. Pretty sure my stomach hurt for the rest of the day though. Lesson learned.

1/24: 18 solo miles @ 8:09 avg

18 miles can be formidable, and this run was replete with tons of mental negotiating and bargaining. I was alone – sans buddies or music – and felt like I was convincing myself with each mile to go just a little farther. My stomach again felt like ass for the first 4 miles, which sucked. I thought of about a million different scenarios that I could do – breaking up the run, bagging it entirely, you name it – but I ultimately just went with it. The funny thing is that I was never more than about 3 or 4 miles from home for the entirety of the run (hence the ever-present possibility of bagging it). I didn’t really begin to feel great until about 10 miles in, and by the time I was done, I was stupidly proud of myself because I worked through a ton of mental bullshit over 18 miles. Mental callousing, baby.

1/30: 12 with 4 @ tempo (6:55, 54, 49, 42)

“Dreary Saturday morning” is a thing these days in SJ, apparently. Back to my rain-friendly track for some fast running action, and I was determined to be smart about my pacing and hoped to reverse the “go too fast, kinda die, and then rally” tone from last week’s attempt. It’s so funny to think how the tempo running has been different for me postpartum than it was before I most recently got pregnant, and that’s probably a blog post in itself. I go into these runs a little anxious but more excited than anything – I get to run fast for a half hour or so! – and while I am concentrating on the paces, I feel fairly relaxed and as though I’m not digging or knocking on death’s door. HOORAY POSTPARTUM PROGRESS.

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1/31: LR in parts: 4 @ 8:44 solo + 14 with pickups w/Meredith @ 8:22 avg

With a slight discrepancy in prescribed distances, and thanks to the baby’s eating schedule in the early morning, it worked out for me to run 4 easy miles by myself in the rain and dark before Meredith arrived. The two of us eventually set out to run 14 and change over the rollers again and took it easy on the front half before a nice progression and negative split home. The final miles for me went 8:29, 14, 08, 7:36, 29, 26, and 22, and I felt great on all of them. I’m still trying to find what my GMP is, and throwing in some fast finishes on my runs has helped clarify that a little.

The executive summary: all good. I’ll write another post on some ancillary stuff that I’ve been working on with this marathon cycle – some of it is specific to the postpartum period – since I’m already over 1,000 words for this post (sorry, friends’ eyeballs. Remember to blink periodically). I’m happy with how things are going and am excited to see what lies ahead. Here we go, February!

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