Let's Do This: Chicago Marathon Goals

Despite my allegations to the contrary, I did manage to squeeze in 2 final miles at GMP this week ahead of the big dance on Sunday.


And by "at GMP," I mean "whoops, that's too fast, please don't do that on Sunday"

I don't depart until tomorrow morning, which gives me one last sleep in my own bed, and also one last evening to over-analyze my training, my packing list, my weight, and my race day attire, so that should be fun.  While I'll waffle back and forth on any number of inconsequential decisions tonight, my race day goals won't be changing, so I figured I'd take this opportunity to put those in writing.  Juju, and what have you.

A+ goal: 3:19:59
A goal: 3:23:59

3:19:59 is what I've been training for all season.  It's also what I was training for all of last season, and also all of the season before that.  Understandably, I'd really like to achieve that in Chicago on Sunday.  I've put in more miles than ever before, but I've also grappled with a nagging hip issue, and I'm still fighting off the remnants of a respiratory infection.  Also, running a marathon is hard, and there are no guarantees.

3:23:59 would be a PR (technically, 3:24:44 would be a PR, but I'd like to be able to roll back those minutes and not just the seconds).  My PR just passed its third anniversary.  It's high time to freshen it up.  Chicago has been generous to me in doling out PRs in the past, and I hope that trend continues.

B goal: 3:25:59.  I know the difference between A and B is only 2 minutes, but in the mind of a runner, that's basically 2 years.  A 3:25:59 would be better than I ran in Boston this year (so would 3:26:54, but again, I'd like the minute hand to point to something smaller).  I worked hard in the lead up to Boston, and it is a notoriously difficult course.  But I worked harder in the lead up to Chicago, and in my experience, it's an easier course.  But Boston offers 16 downhill miles to get you started.  But, but, but... I love that over-analysis.

C goal: 3:35:00.  This one is totally arbitrary, but I don't know what else to but here, so a BQ it is.  I thought, at first, about including a time goal surpassing my Hamptons Marathon time last year.  Hamptons was a worst case scenario for me, and one I'd like to avoid at all costs this weekend, or ever again.  In all honesty, even if all the wheels came off on Sunday and I managed to finish slightly faster than the Hamptons, I wouldn't be proud, and being proud of the accomplishment seems critical to goal-setting, so I nixed it from the list.

D goal: I'm starting to feel like I'm jinxing myself, but as always, my D goal is "Don't shit self."

So there you have it.  The pace bracelet is printed, the Poptarts are packed, and the pizza is on its way.  See you on the other side of number 18.

We'll Miss You, Zelda

The running community lost a familiar face, as it was announced this week that Zelda, the Battery Park wild turkey, is feared dead.  

Though rather well-known among athletes who spent the early morning hours of their weekends hooking around the Southern tip of Manhattan by foot or bike, when few pedestrians and vehicles were around to disturb her, Zelda was nonetheless a surprise with every encounter.  "Did I just see a turkey?  In Battery Park?  It can't be.  But that was definitely a turkey."

Zelda appears to have met her maker in the least dignified of ways: she was hit by a car, then her remains were scooped into a sanitation department truck.  Not cool.

Legions of athletes will now have to find a new object over which they can spend miles analyzing "was that a hallucination?"  (I'm pretty sure I saw a flock of parakeets up by the Little Red Lighthouse a few weeks ago, so you might want to start there.)

We'll miss you, Zelda.

Updates from My Death Bed

Well this was not the race week I'd hoped for.

I stayed home sick yesterday, and dosed myself liberally with DayQuil, NyQuil, Zicam, Emergen-C, cough drops, honey, tea, and naps.  And soup.  So much soup.

I made roasted butternut squash soup from scratch on Monday night, roughly following this recipe.  It took nearly 3 hours, and made so much soup that I can't eat anything else for the month of October, But I am starting to feel better today, so maybe it was worth the effort. 

I'm back at work today because race registrations aren't free, but mostly I'm keeping my door closed and containing my germs.  If the carpet weren't so dirty from 2 years of me spilling every meal on the floor, I would consider napping in here this afternoon.

As for the rest of the week, my priority is rest and recovery, so I'm unlikely to run a final set of GMP miles, but I'm trying to remind myself that 10 days of shoddy tapering can't undo 3 months of hard work.  I am sorely tempted to peruse Running in the USA and see if I can line up a "B" race, should I not make a full recovery by Sunday, but I don't want to jinx myself either.  Please send your healthiest thoughts my way.

Monday Wrap Up: In Which I'm the Protagonist in "Contagion: 2"

Today is Monday, and 6 days from now, I'll race the Chicago Marathon.  In the past 6 days, I have suffered from:
- one migraine headache
- one non-migraine headache, which is an inconvenient side effect of the drugs I take for my migraines
- one bout of... severe intestinal distress (not Ebola)
- one misdiagnosed allergic reaction to fun and warmth and beaches and weddings and North Carolina
- two days and counting of my second cold of the season, about which I am a tremendous baby.

So, week two of the taper was not ideal.  But I'm trying to be optimistic, and figure I might as well get the migraines/poops/boogers out of my system now, so that in 6 days, I'll be good as new.  That's the goal, anyway.

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 16.  Since my first week of taper was 62 miles long, I figure taking the average of these two weeks should leave me in a prime position for racing.  Right?  Is that how this works?  

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: 5.  If it turns out the crippling cold I've been suffering through since Sunday is as a result of drinking again, I'm going to be sorely disappointed.  

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: All Bud Lights.  I figured that they're close enough to water that they wouldn't be a shock to the system after 5 weeks dry.  

(The cause for the drinks, by the way, was Abbe and Baker's wedding weekend, which was beautiful and very fun, and I highly recommend the beach in October when there isn't a hurricane, and also anyplace with biscuits, but I don't want to steal their thunder, so they can tell you about it when they get back from Tahiti.)

For the next week, the only intoxicant in my future will be DayQuil.  Please send your healthiest vibes my way.

Sunday Wrap Up: Weather Woes

The fall marathon season is tricky: spanning from (roughly) the third week of September to Thanksgiving (California International Marathon in the first week of December is the notable outlier), a fall marathon can offer a 55 degree day and perfect foliage. It can also offer an 85 degree day and unrelenting sun. Or a 30 degree day and icy asphalt at every water station.

The hope, of course, is the first of these scenarios, and I've been fortunate enough to experience conditions like that a couple of times (my first Wineglass, also my first BQ, is a favorite example). My preference among the remaining two scenarios would be a cold day; while my body is much more acclimated to heat than cold right now, coming off the summer, I find it easier (and way less demoralizing) to try to stay warm on the run than stay cool. My second Philadelphia marathon was pretty icy, and it poured chilly rain during the Smuttynose marathon, my PR race, so I speak from some experience here.

But if the weather Gods take it upon themselves to give us a scorcher of a day in Chicago, which they have done there before, at least this past weekend will have prepared me somewhat.




I'm normally a post-run sandwich kind of gal, but this frozen yogurt was among the highlights of my weekend.

After 2 days and 23 miles in 80 degrees, I'm quite ready for Fall and a real, live taper, thank you very much.

Number of Miles Run This Week: 62. Not exactly a traditional first week of taper, but I'm ready to really dial it back now. In fact, I'm coming to you live from the pedicure chair right now, so you know I'm ready to stop wrecking my feet for a few weeks (also ready to not wreck Abbe and Baker's wedding photos with my hooves next weekend.)

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: 0. I've been dry for a month. I haven't lost any weight, nor slept any better, so this is some BS. To that end, I'll be getting off the wagon next weekend in conjunction with the aforementioned wedding of my nearest and dearest running buddies, because what's a celebration of love between athletes without the alcohol with which athletes are handsomely rewarded after their races? I'll try not to go crazy, because I've already been the bridesmaid who throws up once before (in my defense, Caroline and Chris are still going strong despite, or because of, my dance floor antics), but I expect there is a Fat Tire or two in my future.

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: n/a. TG asked me to hold his beer during the Norte Dame - Syracuse game last night, and it was like handing me a puppy and asking me not to squeeze it and start talking in a baby voice. That is to say, it was difficult to resist.

Better Late Than Never

Today is Tuesday, September 23rd.  My next marathon is 19 days away.  This morning, I ran 21 miles.  Taper: you're doing it wrong.

The past couple weeks have been hectic and stressful: I was in LA for a week for work, followed by Maddy's memorial service, both of which were emotionally challenging and draining for different reasons.  I kept up with my running as best I could, squeezing in a mid-week 16 miler in two parts (10 miles in the morning, 6 miles in the evening - it sucked precisely as much as it sounds like it would) before I left, and hitting the treadmill at the Equinox in my hotel once I got to LA (same hotel as last year, same love affair with Equinox).  While the miles got done, the treadmill seems to exacerbate my hip pain, which I pretended was a random coincidence, and continued to hit the treadmill at my own gym once I was back in New York and struggling to wake up at hours conducive to exercising before work in the Eastern Time Zone.

After a tough (but pretty baller, if you ask me) set of 800s at the track last Friday, my 10th consecutive day of running, my hip was like "you can go right to hell," and I decided a rest day or two were in order.  Which meant, of course, that my long run was off the Saturday docket.  (Instead, I bought a bike for $25, so now mostly I want this marathon to be over so I can play with it).  Sunday was filled with family obligations (and cider donuts!), and so the weekend came and went and my last long run wasn't completed.  Which brings us to today, when I had the time (if waking up at 4am on Tuesday constitutes having the time) and inclination to just get it done.

And great news!  My hip feels a-okay after two days of rest, I feel much more satisfied with my training having completed my last long run, and the bacon, egg, and cheese I just ate was delicious.  While I know one run won't make or break me, especially having done this whole marathon thing one or two or 17 times before, I think the mental aspect of knocking out a 20+ miler and commencing the taper is an important and satisfying milestone.  Even if it happens two days too late.

Something else that is happening too late is the recap of last week... and the week before.

Number of Miles Run, 9/8 - 9/14: 49.  28 of those were on the treadmill - barf.  I also attended a SoulCycle class in Beverly Hills that week, and was shocked to discover that I was one of about 5 people in the 6am Thursday class.  In New York, you have to fight tooth and nail for a bike at 6am.  In Beverly Hills, I guess no one goes to work, so they don't have to exercise at the butt crack of dawn.  

Oh, I forgot I registered for Boston, too.  So there's that. 

Number of Beers Consumed, 9/8 - 9/14: 0.  Still on the wagon.

Types of Beers Consumed, 9/8 - 9/14: N/A.  It saddens me to travel and not sample local beers.  Good thing I'll be back in California in November.

Number of Miles Run, 9/15 - 9/21: 40.  Respectable, even without a long run.  I'm okay with it.

Number of Beers Consumed, 9/15 - 9/21: 0.

Types of Beers Consumed, 9/15 - 9/21: N/A.  But I had hot apple cider on Saturday, which is... not the same.

So, now I can officially say I'm tapering, which is pretty fun, except for the insatiable hunger, constant over-analysis of mysterious aches and pains, and random crying jags.  This week will be a less traditional than previous tapers, since today's run will keep my weekly mileage pretty high, but I'll really be dialing back intensity.  And wondering if there are people out there who follow training plans exactly as written and if so, what kinds of jobs and lives they might have that makes that even remotely possible.

Do you adhere strictly to your training plan?  I'm good about getting the workouts done, but seldom in the order or on the days they're prescribed.

Monday Wrap Up: Thoughts From Race Week

The insomnia has kicked in, I've convinced myself my left hip needs to be replaced, I thought about my next meal while I was still in the process of devouring an ice cream cone last night, and I've checked the long range forecast more often than I've checked my work email. Race week is upon us.

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 34. I hadn't remembered from last fall that this training plan has 800s two weeks before the race. It does, and that's rude.

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: 0. 30 days dry. The desire still burns deep.

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: n/a. I've had more club soda in the last month that I've had in the preceding 30 years.

This weekend's workouts were pretty good confidence boosters for me. I ran 13.1 on a hilly route on Saturday in 1:42 and never felt like I was pushing the pace. 1:42 x 2 makes a 3:24 marathon, which is my current PR. With a little race day adrenaline thrown into the equation, something in that vicinity should be pretty reasonable, even with a little pace drop off (let's be real - negative splits have never been my thing). And while Sunday's 800s seemed unnecessarily cruel, I was comfortably faster than 3:20 for each (3:10, 3:12, 3:08, 3:08).

This week is about sleeping enough, eating well, and not making myself crazy. I'll pop in again with further thoughts and updates, but in the meantime, please drink beers outside for me - this weather is killing me.

Monday Wrap Up: Taper Worm and Other Affllictions

The taper is in full force, which I know because all sorts of problems and complications are presenting themselves. First and foremost is the insatiable hunger, or Taper Worm, of which I'm acutely aware considering my participation in the Social Diet. Friday I had two dinners, each made complete with its own dessert. In the spirit of the Social Diet, I'm trying at least to feed the Taper Worm with good-for-me foods, but yesterday when I was in Whole Foods buying fruit and yogurt, I walked out with some sea salted chocolate caramels as well. The heart wants what it wants.

In addition to the traditional hunger associated with the taper, I'm also suffering from random ailments. During yesterday's run, I had a bloody nose for 5 full miles. Not just a little blood either; my gloves and the front of my shirt were covered in blood spatter, straight out of CSI. At this rate, I'll probably acquire a case of gangrene by Thursday. Unless eating is a cure for that, in which case, I'm safe.

Something that hasn't been bothering me of late is my psoas, though I can't say that's a result of the standing desk. My commitment has been halfhearted at best. That said, I haven't experienced the sharp pain I first described in quite some time, though the psoas and general hip area are still spots I "notice" from time to time. So naturally instead of being proactive and taking steps to prevent it from creeping up again, I'll go back to doing exactly what it was I was doing before, but lazier: instead of deconstructing my standing desk, now mostly I complain about how the phone is difficult to reach from its perch when I'm sitting.

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 41. Yesterday's "long" run was just 16 miles, and while I was pretty tired throughout (possibly from the blood loss), I really focused on attacking the hills in preparation for my upcoming assault on Newton. It's finally spring-like here, so I'm looking forward to the next two weeks of easy miles just to be outside.

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: 0. They say it takes 21 days to form a habit. I've been sober for 22. I hope and expect this won't be a difficult habit to break when the time comes.

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: n/a.

Monday Wrap Up: The Social Diet

You guys, it's taper time! That time of year when you are insatiably hungry despite running fewer miles per week than you have in 4 months, have phantom pains you're sure are signs of kidney failure, and are thrilled your long run is "only" 16 miles for the week!

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 59. As you might imagine, I was furious to discover this, and it took a lot of restraint not to just run one more damn mile. That's my highest weekly mileage ever, for what it's worth.

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: Nil. I thought about having a Buckler NA at dinner on Saturday night, but remembered how, on New Year's Eve, desperately clamoring to have something with which to toast at midnight, TG and I grabbed the last two beers available, which turned out to be Becks NA, which turned out to be awful. Thankfully, it hasn't seemed to have deleterious consequences on our 2014.

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: N/A

In the spirit of spring and wedding season and coming to terms with turning 30, some of my girlfriends decided to begin a "Social Diet."  The thinking is that the "social" aspect not only makes each of us more accountable than we would be if the only being who knew we washed down a box of Girl Scout cookies with a bottle of sauvignon blanc were our cats, but that if you engage in a social diet with people with whom you actually do socialize, your social activities may also be healthier. We're a group who loves to catch up over a meal and a couple bottles of wine, so being able to say "hey let's go for a walk instead!" should help with our collective health. Everyone set personal goals for themselves from the start, ranging from weight loss to exercise frequency to experience in the kitchen, and we're tracking our progress against them through Memorial Day (which seems impossibly far away right now). We're all using My Fitness Pal to keep tabs on what we're up to, and sharing it with each other, hence the "social" part. 

From the get-go, I was given a "pass" on participating, because monkeying around with diet and exercise isn't something I can commit to in the throes of marathon season. But, in the spirit of health, and in deference to FOMO, I joined the band wagon. My goals included:

1) Be mindful of what it is I'm eating. I'm absolutely guilty of thinking that if the furnace is hot enough, it'll burn anything. I try to eat a salad a few days a week, but try less to avoid Doritos, Diet Coke, and "dinner" made up entirely of cheese and crackers.

2) Cook more. Honestly, cooking consistently even once per week would constitute "more." But this will help achieve goal numero uno as well. I have yet to find a recipe on Epicurious that involves Diet Dr. Pepper as an ingredient, so chances are, if I'm making it myself, it's going to have ingredients that are better for me.

I was concerned about having SMART goals, because I too have attended professional development workshops and am familiar with workplace jargon, so for those purposes, I'm aiming to track my meals in My Fitness Pal to get a better idea of what I am eating, both in terms of whole foods and on a nutrient level; and cook once per week. Here's what happened in week one:

My Fitness Pal gives you a daily calorie allotment, based on your lifestyle, height, weight, and weight loss goals, if any. For me, that calorie allotment is 1,780. Any exercise you do bumps that number up (this means I double log runs, since I use DailyMile as shown above to track my training). Under absolutely no circumstances would I be able to stick to my calorie allotment without exercise. On Saturday, for example, I consumed 3,200 calories.  My dinner alone was close to that 1,780 number.  That's without alcohol.  Saturday I also ran 21 miles, so I ended up under my calorie goal, but I have no idea how people who don't exercise don't also starve to death.

Pasta, scallops, olive oil, all reasonable choices.  And also, 6 cookies... 

I did manage to cook exactly once last week.  That's not even counting Sunday morning's toast with jam.  So, twice!

Other things I've learned:
- the tomato soup I've had for lunch approximately everyday since Thanksgiving has close to a full day's allotment of sodium in it
- a cupcake from Magnolia Bakery has 400 calories. Each and every one of those calories is delicious
- when I start drinking again, I'm totally screwed

On a more serious note, I think the notion of a social diet can really only work if you're a) doing it with people who are genuinely supportive of one another's goals, and b) a person who doesn't get caught in the comparison trap.  I'm lucky that A is absolutely true in this case, but B is something with which I've struggled before.  It's easy to avoid in this case, because it happens that none of the other participants are currently training for a marathon, but I'll be interested to see how I feel once my race is done, when I'll have no legitimate reason to eat 3200 calories, and no desire to run for 3 hours at a time.  

Ever participate in a "social diet?"  Do you track your food intake?  Do you know the Petit Ecolier cookies, of which I ate 6 on Saturday?  If you do, do you understand why I eat them 6 at a time?

Race Week Omens, Revisited

Cardiac arrest, shmartiac arrest.  If ever there were a sign from God that I'm going to kill it (as opposed to be killed) on Monday, I received it this evening when I took out my wallet to pay for two boxes of Gu at Jack Rabbit.

Whereas restaurants and businesses frame and display their first dollar, I'm going to frame my Boner dollar and display it with my race medals.


In other news, I plan to actually run tomorrow, and then Friday or Saturday before I hit the road, I'll offer some Boston goals and pre-race musings.  What I'm saying is, come back later in the week for actual content.  


In the meantime, enjoy the Boner dollar.  I know I will.

Race Week Omens

Today I logged onto the Boston Athletic Association website to figure out what time I'll be starting on Monday and this was the homepage:

A dying runner receiving chest compressions.  Good stuff.  Looking forward to it...

Monday Wrap Up: Happy Race Week!

I ran by the convent near my parents' house yesterday on my last long run before Boston. The nuns were outside, enjoying the sunshine and also the whole resurrection thing, it being Easter and all. As I crested the hill directly outside their digs, a cheer went up. Again, I imagine it was because of Jesus' big day, but it was nice to think they were cheering me on.

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 28. I haven't run fewer than 30 miles in a week since the week of January 2nd, when I was equal parts drunk and in a humid and mountainous island nation, and then subsequently nursing a Carribbean hangover. My blood was 40% alcohol and 35% DEET that week. Today, my blood is 65% Cadbury Creme Egg.

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: 0. I'm now 23 days sober. Having straight OJ instead of mimosas at Easter brunch was odd. But not as odd as drinking water at a Bruce Springsteen concert on Friday night. I served as the Designated Photographer instead:

The beers came with built-in pretzel rods. I cannot believe I had to miss this alcoholic bit of ingenuity.

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: n/a.

Well here we are. 1 week from race day. I'm in the manic phase of taper-induced manic depression. While this year, I escaped the depressive phase without injury (remember last year when I fell in a hole while running because I had spontaneously started crying and couldn't see where I was going? That was fun, and normal...), I now have so much pent up energy it's taking a lot of effort on my part to not scream the lyrics to the Boss' "Waiting on a Sunny Day" and run up and down the aisles of this MetroNorth train. If you're either a friend looking for a post-work playmate this week, or are a prescribing physician with access to tranquilizers, shoot me an email.

Happy race week, kids!



Taper Pains, and Not

It's always something.  Usually, a sharp, stabbing, but brief pain.  You think "my God, I'm injured, but the pain doesn't manifest itself for long enough for me to diagnose it as an ankle tumor/ebola of the shin/open dislocation of the subtalar joint (thanks for adding that one to my medial diagnosis capabilities, Joba Chamberlain).  And then the next time you run, it's something else.  Sciatica, meningitis, Bell's palsy.  


I've trained for 13 marathons and never once gotten through the taper without fabricating some type of last-minute injury in my brain.  Or brain injury.  Yes, the taper makes you that neurotic.


The way to distinguish "taper pain" from "not" is simple.  Does it persist when you stop running?  Is it consistent over more than one run?  Sounds like it's in the "not" category.  A real, live, non-imagined pain.  And guess what I have!


I started noticing some pain in my left hip last weekend, right at the iliac spine of my pelvis (that's the top of the wing part; don't forget I took anatomy in college and studied under the tutelage of a random ER doctor from the local hospital who was brought in for the term and had no interest in whether or not we learned anything, combined with the Anatomy Coloring Book).

"Pain" wasn't really the right word for it.  Maybe, tightness?  Definitely tied to weight bearing on my left side.  Not sore to the touch.  Not noticeable during a run, but more pronounced immediately after.  Responsive to Advil (still no word on booze).  I was able to run 21 miles on it, no problem on Sunday, but became aware of it after that. Almost like I slept on it wrong.  It's wasn't so much an injury or threat to my Boston Marathon (famous last words...) as it was an annoyance. And given that I felt it before the taper even started, I began to think that this was not just a taper pain.


So I did what any runner/20-something who came of age in the internet era would do: Googled my symptoms.

Hmm, the tensor fasciae latae, you say? (I didn't actually say it, because I'm not sure how it's pronounced). 

You know how Kevin Bacon is said to be the nexus of all films?  Well the IT band is the nexus of all running ailments.  And what do you know, the IT band connects right there to the TFL (made that acronym up myself)!

Conveniently, I've been through my fair share of lower leg PT, so I have quite a few IT band treatments up my sleeve.  I spent almost as long stretching and foam rolling at the gym last night as I did actually running.  And I didn't just work the IT band either, but the piriformis (the one that goes butt-to-hip and SCREAMS when you sit on a tennis ball, which you would do for treatment and not fetishism, you creep), hamstrings, and adductors too.  Everything in there.  Everything gets stretched and rolled!  I don't care that it looks like I'm pleasuring myself by rolling my pelvis on a hard foam tube while letting out soft moans in front of everyone else at the gym.  We've got less than 3 weeks to get this body running smoothly!

Ever had a tensor fasciae latae issue?  Got any more tips for me?  Ever taken a class whose textbook was a coloring book solely because you had a crush on a hockey player who was also taking it, and subsequently made it known to him the last week of college that you valued his human anatomy, immediately before the Last Chance Dance, whose purpose was exactly what you think it was?  Nope, me either.

Drunken Logic on Going Sober

People actually don’t often ask me why I go sober before certain marathons.  Certainly, some people have asked, but most people just take it at face value.  Claire’s running a marathon in a month, so she’s not drinking until then.

The thing is, that doesn’t really make sense.

As I mentioned on Sunday, it would make more sense if I stopped drinking for the peak mileage weeks of training; without the distractions of beer, I would sleep better, wake up earlier, and be better hydrated to tackle big mileage and tough speed work.  But I keep on drinking through all that, and instead start drying out just before I find myself with a lot of time on my hands during the taper.  Time that could be spent drinking.  So why do I do this?

What you are about to read –  my sober “rationale” – reads like a drunk’s argument.  It is flawed and full of holes and inconsistencies, and I apply it only when it’s convenient to me.  So obviously if you’re looking for well-founded marathon training advice, you’ve come to the right place!

My “reasoning” is based on my storied history with running and booze.  The sobriety thing hasn’t been around since my first marathon.  And it isn’t something I do for every race.  But the first time I did it (Philly, 2007), I had a good race.  So I did it again before Chicago 2009, and I had another good race.  So I did it again before Wineglass 2010, and I had another good race.  And so forth.  But I realized my results could have been a result of coincidence, serendipity, or, you know, training, so I developed some “science” to apply to my thinking, retroactively.  Because I am an ethical researcher.

So now when people ask why I stop drinking, I say it’s because I want to get down to race weight, which is certainly true.  But it’s a little disingenuous to imply that I’m sobering up for weight management, when I ate an ice cream cone for dinner last night (chocolate chip cookie dough).  I also say being sober makes you sleep more soundly, which any drunk who’s ever passed out will allege cannot possibly be true.  It is, actually; drunken sleep is less restorative than sober sleep.  But I get terrible insomnia during the taper, so I’m not particularly restored.

So why, then, do I do this to myself?  What is the criteria for determining which races will drive me to un-drink? And what are the terms of this self-imposed sentence?

To answer the former, there is something to be said for the comfort aroused through a good luck charm.  “I’ve done this before, and good things happened,” I think to myself, “so I will do it again and good things will happen.”  It’s kind of like my Brooks racing hat, which I’ve worn in every marathon since my first.  Of course, I don’t sit around on my ass for 12 weeks eating Cadbury Cream Eggs and think that 4 weeks of sobriety and a hat is the same thing as 16 weeks of marathon training.  I spent 8 hours running last week, for Christsake.  But coupled with training, sobriety is a sort of talisman for me.

There’s also something to be said for the power of sacrifice.  This is going to sound borderline sadistic, but sometimes depriving yourself of something you really, truly enjoy that reminds you of what you’re working towards.  I think this is the theory behind giving up something for Lent, but I’m not a religious person, so I can’t really speak to this point.  Also, drawing a vague parallel between not being stinking drunk and dying on a cross probably makes everyone reading this uncomfortable, so let’s move on.

As for the criteria for which races get the sober treatment, it is (like the rest of this half-brained theory) subjective.  First of all, it’s only for the marathon.  This is because the marathon is the only race distance I really care about and train for, which itself doesn’t make much sense.  But anyway.  If it’s an “important” marathon – one in which I’m attempting a PR – I’ll go dry, for a period of 4-6 weeks beforehand.  Except last fall, when I didn’t want to not drink while on vacation, so I went dry for a week, drank beers every day for a week, then went dry again for two weeks. 

If it’s a race I’m running for the experience, I usually try not to drink the night before.  Except for the times when I do, with the rationale that you don’t want to stray from your usual routine the night before a marathon.

In conclusion, I make up the rules as I go along, without regard to logic.  So far it’s worked.  Why mess with mediocrity?

Sunday Wrap: TGITaper

Happy taper to me! And not a moment too soon. I spent 8 hours and 9 minutes running this week. 8 hours! That's a work day (or a half-day for IMan)! That's 4 feature films! That's 16 episodes of Seinfeld, with commercials! That's a drive from New York City to Caribou, Maine (not that one would want to go there, in a car or otherwise). And even more astounding, that doesn't include:

- walking, which I do a lot of and consider cross training (shut your mouth, it counts)
- lifting, which I did one day this week because my arms look like noodles and also because there is a TV in my parents' basement "fitness center" and I wanted to watch reruns of Friends uninterrupted and without having to engage in adult conversation
- stretching, which I do because it feels good
- time spent putting on compression socks, which takes approximately 40 minutes per foot

8 hours and 9 minutes of nothing but running. And if it weren't abundantly clear, I am pretty sure I'm dying of exhaustion. I had to take a nap at 10:00am yesterday. How in the hell does any non-professional runner manage to run a single mile more than what I did this week?

And speaking of...

Number of Miles Run This Week: 57. That ties my record weekly mileage. It's also my 4th week in a row of 50+ miles, something I've never done before. Come hell or high water, I'm running no more than 49 miles next week, and I'm sleeping in at least one day next weekend.

Number of Beers Consumed This Week: 0.

Types of Beers Consumed This Week: n/a.

I think the main reason I had 8 hours available for running this week is because I didn't drink any beers. It would make more sense, then, to go dry for the 4 weeks before the taper, when I'm maximizing my mileage, and not the 4 weeks before the race, when I'm tapering and have nothing better to do for the last 3 weeks than drink beers. In case it weren't apparent, there is little science behind my sobriety plan, but that's a story for another blog post.

Further Thoughts on Being Over It

As I touched upon this morning, I’m pretty much over this whole “training” thing. While I was definitely psyched after my track session last night, I also wished that, rather than being a marathon prediction workout, Yasso 800s were the actual marathon. I averaged about a 3:14. Can’t we just use that as my new marathon PR and be done with this?


But that one blog post wasn't nearly enough whining.  So without further ado, here is a list of marathon training-related things I'm tired of:

- Buying sneakers. Do you know how many pairs of sneakers are in my bedroom right now? 5. I have neither an apartment large enough to house 5 pairs of sneakers, nor an income large enough to support the purchase of sneakers every 8 weeks. But for all the excellent qualities of Saucony Kinvaras, they don’t hold up much past 200 or 250 miles. 

- Compression gear. It’s too bad this stuff is so effective, because it is both prohibitively expensive and a bitch to put on. I can barely fit my arm into a compression sock to turn it right side out, let alone wrestle it on to my muscled calves. Pretty much the only parts of my body that don’t need compression at this point in training are my hands, but thanks to Speedy Sasquatch and Tommie Copper, I am the proud owner of fingerless compression gloves as well. In case in the off-season, I decide to give up running and become a furious masturbator, I suppose.


- Laundry. I’m in my fourth consecutive 50+ mile week. All that running means I’m burning through running clothes faster than I can do drop off my laundry to be done. This morning, I had to resort to an old Under Armor sports bra, which chafed the hell out of out me.


- On that note, I’m also tired of bodily wear-and-tear. I have random chafed spots on my chest, arms, and stomach. The soles of my feet look like fried chicken. I lose tremendous amounts of hair because my ponytail gets so sweaty and ratty while I'm running and I don’t have the patience to delicately remove my hair ties. Even my nose is raw from blowing so many snot rockets.


- Time management. Today was the first morning since daylight savings began that I was able to get myself out for a run by 6:15am, so here’s hoping this will make the time management thing easier, but CHRIST WHY DO WE HAVE TO WAKE UP SO EARLY?  When can we sleep in?!  Not on the weekends, because we have to run for multiple hours and miles.  So when, then?  April?!  That's not good enough, damnit!  I'm tired of being roused from sleep so early, and I’m sick of having to plan my other obligations around my runs. 


- And speaking of other obligations, I’m tired of sobriety. I have 2 work events tonight (which is why I mustered the energy to run this morning). Both offer open bars. And I’m on day 4 of sobriety. It’s exhausting.

Sunday Wrap Up: Battle Ready?

With one week before showtime, my Kinvaras are ready to slay:



But am I?

In my quest to run a race a month in 2011, and with time ticking down on September, I decided to "race" this morning's Music That Heals 5k in Prospect Park. Much as I was tempted, I didn't "race" it as a 5k; rather, I toed the line after running 5 miles, and planned to get a little practice hitting just under goal marathon pace. I was aiming for sub 24:00, and I crossed the finish in 23:52. But it felt pretty terrible, and after a fast first mile downhill, I struggled uphill in heat and July-level humidity, self-doubt increasing with every step. "3.1 miles on a course I know and I'm struggling? At this rate, what will next Sunday be like?!"

What did I learn from this? Don't race the weekend before your marathon. Even a 5k, even if you aren't really racing. There's really no need to unleash the taper beasts. But because I did, I look forward to spending the next 6 days nauseous as the seed of insecurity germinates right up until race day, while obsessively checking the weather and praying Fall arrives in New England before next weekend. Isn't running fun?!

Number of Miles Run This Week: 31. The MTH 5k was really well done for a small event. No chip timing, but ample water, post-race food, plenty of volunteers, accurate timing, and a start that might as well have been at my front door. The one drawback (besides my own suckage, I mean) was no fault of the race organizers, but rather the fault of my living in Park Slope, where children are engineered to be driven, collegiate recruitment machines. Just past the 1 mile mark, I came upon a mom and a kid of about 7. They'd probably run about a 7:15 first mile (!) but were rapidly decelerating. The mom was giving some benign advice at first, like "take deeper breaths." But then she started getting specific, about not "slowing yourself down getting boxed in and jammed up." As I passed, the kid must have given some protest, to which the mom replied "well you said you wanted to break 23 minutes!"

Also, I was passed in the finish chute by a woman older than my mom. I pat her on the back and congratulated her after we finished. She did not respond. Park Slopers are cutthroat.

Number of Beers Consumed This Week: 0. I toasted the Giants victory today with a glass of water. And bar fries, so it's not all bad.

Types of Beers Consumed This Week: n/a

Nothing but baby miles this week. Well baby miles and phantom pains, crying jags, uncontrollable eating, pregnancy scares, and trips to PetCo. Spoke too soon about this being an easy taper...

The First of the Marathon Nightmares

The taper does weird things to people.  Some people experience phantom pains.  Some people experience crying jags.  Some people eat uncontrollably.  Some people convince themselves they're pregnant.  Some people invest heavily in aquarium supplies.


I've experienced all of those symptoms in my various tapers (I'm probably the only one who experienced the last two).  This go around, the taper actually hasn't been too bad.  I haven't even felt like I've had a ton of free time on my hands with the drop off in mileage.  In fact, the only taper symptom I've been grappling with has been sleep-related.


During most of the year, sleeping is no problem for me.  I go to bed early, I might get up once during the night to pee, and I wake up in the morning feeling rested.  Well unless I'm hungover, in which case I wake up in the morning with mascara down to my chin, food stains on my pajamas, and the urgent need for Gatorade and something that's been fried and then covered with cheese.

I wish this were photoshopped...

But during the marathon taper, I can't sleep through the night.  Several times a week, I'll find myself wide awake at 3:00 or 4:00am.  Tossing and turning only exacerbates the sleeplessness, so I'll turn on the lights and read for an hour or two.  And then suddenly I'm tired again.  Just in time to sleep for 45 minutes until my alarm goes off.  The pits.

Taper induced insomnia is annoying (also, startlingly common, given how many people are complaining about it on Twitter when I wake up suffering from it myself), but the marathon nightmares are worse.  Last night, for example, I dreamt I was running Boston and finished in 3:33:49.  I was absolutely devastated.

We've got a few problems here.  To begin with, my next marathon isn't Boston; it's Smuttynose, so even my psyche has unrealistic expectations, which can't be a good thing.  But the bigger issue is that my subconscious was crushed  by a time 9 seconds off my PR.  9 seconds.  In fact, I distinctly remember dream-Claire saying "that's slower than I ran it last year!"  9 whole seconds slower.  God, you fat, slow, ugly, unloved, smelly poop for brains!  How could you be 9 whole seconds off your PR?!  Failure!  Quit running for good and focus your efforts on being the world's fattest woman instead.

I wish this were photoshopped... Oh.  

Sunday Wrap Up: Welcome to Loserville

Population: Claire.

I'm back from Maine, and with it, back to sobriety. I'm not saying you have to drink beer in order to be cool, but... Didn't you go to high school?

Number of Miles Run This Week: 48. I ran some of my best miles this training cycle over the last week. Then I came home from Maine and had to rely on E! reality TV to get through 6 and a half measly miles on the treadmill. Woof. I bounced back somewhat this afternoon, running 14 miles in perfect weather back in Brooklyn. It is unclear how much of the success of that run can be attributed to day 2 of my detox. And I mean seafood detox as much as I mean beer. I don't think deep fried scallops can possibly be considered "fuel." You know what they can be considered? "Awesome."

Number of Beers Consumed This Week: I'd estimate 15. And id be lowballing it. Nothing pairs with deep fried scallops quite like a cold pale ale. Except 4 cold pale ales.

Types of Beers Consumed This Week: Geary's, Gritty's, Pemaquid, and Andrew's Pale Ales, Allagash White, and Shipyard Export Ale, all from Maine. And I had a Sam Adam's with my previously pictured best lunch ever. That's 7 varieties of beer. And what do you know, I was on vacation for 7 days! Am I the perfect...uh... Beer-related mathematician, or what? Am I the only beer-related mathematician? Likely so.

So, we're now 2 weeks from The Big Dance. No, I'm not in an upcoming production of West Side Story (I wish!). The Smuttynose Marathon is 2 weeks from today. I'm technically a week into my taper and haven't yet gone bananas or acquired new pets (related: Four is still alive even after my week away from him!), but because I had so much free time this past week, I didn't really cut down on mileage either. In fact, I only ran 1 miles fewer this week than last. Still, things will really wind down on the running front this week and next, so I'm trying to preemptively fill my schedule so as not to eat my feelings and/or spontaneously start crying. Tomorrow night, for example, I'll be watching the Giants game. The Giants, in case you don't follow football, have been sucking. So actually, tomorrow I'm quite likely to eat my feelings and spontaneously start crying. Just keep me out of PetCo and I'll consider it a success...

Fish Tales

This post has nothing to do with running or beer. But in the spirit of taper madness, it has everything to do with keeping myself busy and distracted so I don't go off the deep end in the final, sparsely run upon weeks of training for Boston. This is a post about goldfish.

As I mentioned previously, I had my heart set on getting myself a goldfish with a white body and orange head and who therefore looked like me and naming it Twin. When I went to the pet store, it was determined that I could house three such fish in my new aquarium. I took the Triplets home in a plastic bag and we were happy together. And 5 days later, they were all dead.

But I had a new aquarium! And decorative gravel, and a ceramic octopus, and about a pound of goldfish food. I was determined to start again. I dreamt of coming home at night to my fishy friend, of looking at him happily splashing in his seascape and being soothed. This fish had become, in my mind, crucial to my mental health during the taper madness, and I wasn't going to let the outcome of my Boston Marathon be determined by a couple of dead bodies in my toilet. I needed a new fish.

But I can't do anything part way. Just like I'd invested in an aquarium and decorative gravel and a ceramic octopus and a pound of fish food instead of a bowl and a few flakes, I was going to find my new fish from the best fish supplier in all of Gotham City. I poured over reviews on Yelp and finally found them: Manhattan Marine Supply. Or maybe that's not their name. Manhattan Aquarium Supply? Whoever they were, they had a long-running streak of being New York Magazine's "Best of New York." They would give me fish I could sustain. The fate of my Boston Marathon was depending on it.

And so, on Monday afternoon, I started walking. Oh wait, let me explain: the Best Aquatic Life Sustaining Store of New York is in Midtown East. My office is in Chelsea. But another aspect of taper madness for me involves walking. Everywhere. It gives me something to do, both in terms of taking up the free time with which I find myself, as well as being somewhat active while not putting stress on my training-weary legs or mind. So on Monday, I started walking from Chelsea and kept going until I reached 38th Street and Second Avenue.

I walked in a found two amiable guys working. They looked like they knew about fish (whatever that looks like). I was hopeful! I poured out my sob story about the Triplets, perhaps expanding their lifespan ever so slightly (it was weeks, not days) as I recounted it, not wanting to look like the homicidal taper-er I had become. I watched as the shopkeepers' expression went from pleasant to concerned to downright disturbed. This was not going well.

"Here's the thing: I'm not gonna sell you another fish, just to... have it die, you know? I mean, morally speaking." Oh my God. I'm mortified. Oh my God. "Morally speaking?!" Oh my God, you're sending the ASPCA to my apartment aren't you?! I put on my bravest face.

"So if you could bring us a water sample, at least 20 mL, but 25 would be best, we'll go ahead and run some tests..."

Run some tests? Jesus, are these fish dying of heart disease?

I smiled and nodded. "25 mL, sure, you got it..." I trailed off, backing out of the store. The ethical implications of selling me a goldfish were too much for New York Magazine's Most Humane Aquarium Supplier in New York. My dreams of staring into the pleasantly rollicking waves of my fishy friend's home within my home, easing all my pre-marathon stress, were being... Well, washed away.

No. I trained to hard for this. I TRAINED FOR THIS FISH. I RAN MILES. HILL WORK. TRACK WORK. I WENT TO PHYSICAL THERAPY FOR THIS GOLDFISH!!! Never mind that this logic didn't even make sense to me, even in my taper addled brain. I. Needed. A. Goldfish. Immediately.

Thank God for Petco. Not only do their employees appear not to have an ethics policy, but they guarantee their fish 30 days from date of purchase. With a water sample, of course.