From the Saddle (aka The One About Half Marathon Training)
It might be best to remember that everything that follows - every word, phrase, idea, sentence, paragraph - is nothing more than wishful thinking, educated guessing, and hefty dose of rationalization. I do so love a good rationalization. That'll become grossly apparent here in a little bit. This particular one isn't quite as dangerous as rationalizing that even though your parachute packer hates your guts, he's still a professional and won't do anything to jeopardize his reputation...but it could be close. Truth is we won't know until late October, around noon Reykjavik Iceland time on October 28, 2018, to be exact. Hopefully, it'll be noon. Too much earlier and we will know that all the wishful thinking, educated guessing, and rationalizing were for absolutely nothing. We'll also know that I should never, ever, ever again commit to a fall half marathon. While living (and summering) in Central Texas.
I'm going on a run-cation to Iceland in October. Logic said Iceland would be fun to run in October. It could be cold and rainy, just a little worse than spring in Bergen, but it would be a welcome change from the heat and humidity of Austin (Yes, even at the end of October, ugly sweating can be a daily thing in Texas). Moreover, I actually enjoy running in "cold and rainy" conditions. Much like my week in Stockholm in October 2017 (where the weather was perfectly fall crisp), I'd be able to log some good mileage and get my half marathon training started with a long-ish run.
I would like to highlight two words in the previous sentence - training and started. Last year I kicked off my half marathon training with a 7 mile running tour through Djurgarden and Gamla Stan in Stockholm. I was surprised at how well I ran and how easily my legs covered the distance after not running much all summer (Running tours tend to be unexpectedly amazing runs. Especially given that I run 99.9% of my miles alone, company and conversation make for a nice change. And when you add in cool scenery... Well, you can see why I'm addicted). I ran a few more times while I was there - a couple four milers and one accidental six miler - and I returned home with my confidence high and more than ready to take on half marathon training. My first race was scheduled for mid-January, leaving me three months to increase mileage and speed. Perfect. After I raced well and managed to keep my legs half marathon fit well into April, I decided that I'd kick off my half marathon training every year in Scandinavia (Ok, ok... So it's also an excuse to travel. You got me).
Then in early February, I got the license plate for my new car - KLM 1093 - and it reminded me of two things - travel (Hello, KLM = Royal Dutch Airlines) and my marathon victory in October 1993. Out of nowhere I began planning a fall half marathon (I toyed with celebrating the 25th anniversary of my last marathon by running a marathon for barely a nano-second before abandoning the idea). For obvious reasons Amsterdam became my first choice, but after looking at timing and finances and listening to my mother ask over and over when I was going to visit her, I settled on a compromise - The Reykjavik Autumn Half Marathon. I'd spend a few days with my mom in Minnesota then fly exceptionally inexpensively from Minneapolis to Reykjavik. I got airline tickets and a hotel room, booked a running tour, and registered for the race. Just like that I was going to Iceland. In October. To run a half marathon.
Ideal and near perfect, right? In theory. And with some really fancy wishful thinking and educated guessing tossed in for good measure. So here's the deal - I need to train for this thing. I'm good, but not good enough to jump into a thirteen mile (21k) race on no training. Plus I've never run a half in more than two hours and even though I can say that time doesn't matter, time matters. A lot. Problem is - and truly there is only ONE PROBLEM - it's hot. Related issue - I hate the heat.
I just need to shut my pie-hole, stop whining, suck it up, strap on my running shoes, and fucking endure? I trained for a full marathon through a Kansas summer that was equally hot and even more humid? I was in my early twenties, anorexic as Hell, and stupid. I could have died. I'm older, wiser, and even though I still love the calorie burn, I don't have it in me to put in the miles in black flag conditions.
So I'm not going to. I'm not. But Stacee, you just said... I know what I said. And here's my rationalization. If I can get in one longish run (eight miles or so) every week on my day off - right at sunrise when the temps drop just a hair - I can do the rest of my training on my Spin bike. The one run will keep my legs used to the pounding abuse and the bike will provide leg, lung, and cardio power. And it will develop the mental fortitude it takes to keep the body moving for nearly two hours without stopping.
Endurance is as much about the mind as it is the body. For me, the belief that I can cover the distance is absolutely key. That's why I usually train a series of increasingly long runs. Come race day, my mind isn't clouded with doubt and the distance isn't daunting. My educated guess is that I can train my brain for the distance on my Spin bike as well I can on the road or trail. If I can push myself for two hours in my Spin studio with little to occupy my brain and even less to look at, I should be able to peel off thirteen miles and keep myself in the running during the race. Yes, the muscles are different and yes, I understand the importance of muscle specific training. But don't underestimate the most important "muscle" of all - the brain. If I can convince it, the rest will take care of itself.
Or so I'm going to spend the summer rationalizing. Truly, I won't know until race day. If I blow up and can't finish or if I injure myself and end my half marathon season before it even begins, then I'll know to train differently next time. Or never sign up for a fall half ever again. If my history says anything, though, chances are I'll will myself to success, i.e. a sub-two hour half marathon. You can bet against me but I'll probably end up taking your money. And that's not a rationalization.
I'm going on a run-cation to Iceland in October. Logic said Iceland would be fun to run in October. It could be cold and rainy, just a little worse than spring in Bergen, but it would be a welcome change from the heat and humidity of Austin (Yes, even at the end of October, ugly sweating can be a daily thing in Texas). Moreover, I actually enjoy running in "cold and rainy" conditions. Much like my week in Stockholm in October 2017 (where the weather was perfectly fall crisp), I'd be able to log some good mileage and get my half marathon training started with a long-ish run.
I would like to highlight two words in the previous sentence - training and started. Last year I kicked off my half marathon training with a 7 mile running tour through Djurgarden and Gamla Stan in Stockholm. I was surprised at how well I ran and how easily my legs covered the distance after not running much all summer (Running tours tend to be unexpectedly amazing runs. Especially given that I run 99.9% of my miles alone, company and conversation make for a nice change. And when you add in cool scenery... Well, you can see why I'm addicted). I ran a few more times while I was there - a couple four milers and one accidental six miler - and I returned home with my confidence high and more than ready to take on half marathon training. My first race was scheduled for mid-January, leaving me three months to increase mileage and speed. Perfect. After I raced well and managed to keep my legs half marathon fit well into April, I decided that I'd kick off my half marathon training every year in Scandinavia (Ok, ok... So it's also an excuse to travel. You got me).
Then in early February, I got the license plate for my new car - KLM 1093 - and it reminded me of two things - travel (Hello, KLM = Royal Dutch Airlines) and my marathon victory in October 1993. Out of nowhere I began planning a fall half marathon (I toyed with celebrating the 25th anniversary of my last marathon by running a marathon for barely a nano-second before abandoning the idea). For obvious reasons Amsterdam became my first choice, but after looking at timing and finances and listening to my mother ask over and over when I was going to visit her, I settled on a compromise - The Reykjavik Autumn Half Marathon. I'd spend a few days with my mom in Minnesota then fly exceptionally inexpensively from Minneapolis to Reykjavik. I got airline tickets and a hotel room, booked a running tour, and registered for the race. Just like that I was going to Iceland. In October. To run a half marathon.
Ideal and near perfect, right? In theory. And with some really fancy wishful thinking and educated guessing tossed in for good measure. So here's the deal - I need to train for this thing. I'm good, but not good enough to jump into a thirteen mile (21k) race on no training. Plus I've never run a half in more than two hours and even though I can say that time doesn't matter, time matters. A lot. Problem is - and truly there is only ONE PROBLEM - it's hot. Related issue - I hate the heat.
I just need to shut my pie-hole, stop whining, suck it up, strap on my running shoes, and fucking endure? I trained for a full marathon through a Kansas summer that was equally hot and even more humid? I was in my early twenties, anorexic as Hell, and stupid. I could have died. I'm older, wiser, and even though I still love the calorie burn, I don't have it in me to put in the miles in black flag conditions.
So I'm not going to. I'm not. But Stacee, you just said... I know what I said. And here's my rationalization. If I can get in one longish run (eight miles or so) every week on my day off - right at sunrise when the temps drop just a hair - I can do the rest of my training on my Spin bike. The one run will keep my legs used to the pounding abuse and the bike will provide leg, lung, and cardio power. And it will develop the mental fortitude it takes to keep the body moving for nearly two hours without stopping.
Endurance is as much about the mind as it is the body. For me, the belief that I can cover the distance is absolutely key. That's why I usually train a series of increasingly long runs. Come race day, my mind isn't clouded with doubt and the distance isn't daunting. My educated guess is that I can train my brain for the distance on my Spin bike as well I can on the road or trail. If I can push myself for two hours in my Spin studio with little to occupy my brain and even less to look at, I should be able to peel off thirteen miles and keep myself in the running during the race. Yes, the muscles are different and yes, I understand the importance of muscle specific training. But don't underestimate the most important "muscle" of all - the brain. If I can convince it, the rest will take care of itself.
Or so I'm going to spend the summer rationalizing. Truly, I won't know until race day. If I blow up and can't finish or if I injure myself and end my half marathon season before it even begins, then I'll know to train differently next time. Or never sign up for a fall half ever again. If my history says anything, though, chances are I'll will myself to success, i.e. a sub-two hour half marathon. You can bet against me but I'll probably end up taking your money. And that's not a rationalization.
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