Taper Madness X 10
I’m not really sure if I’m officially *mad* yet. Yesterday at work, I was just restless, sending my coach links for him to read: The LAMarathon Course, Pacetats, LAMarathon activities, etc. etc. Poor guy. He has no idea who he’s dealing with in terms of my psyche. So, today, he suggested I use my time to write it ON MY BLOG.
I went to the WordPress search engine, and typed in “Taper Madness”, and went to the first ten blogs where it was mentioned. It was a great activity, because I got to read other runners’ taper story, and learned a lot too. So, here are those blogs, and lifted text from each of them. I commented on each blog, and have found some great new reads.
What I really loved was looking at peoples’ tag lines, and they are underlined.
Mine is in the upper right hand corner:
If not now, When?
So, here they are. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did, and know that Taper Madness is NORMAL.
Go Erin Go New mother, runner/marathoner, financial analyst, and a sous chef’s wife. This is my life
We have selective memory and tend to block out the unpleasant parts of marathon training; quite like how I’ve heard women who’ve gone through labor and delivery some how block out the memory of the pain and have another child.
Fit Artist She’s an artist, she’s fit, she’s the FitArtist! Watch her go!
As your training decreases, you start to panic and imagine you are not fit enough, so think it might be a good idea to add in more runs or start running faster, but at this stage, there is no way you are going to get any fitter and should just enjoy the ‘rest’!
Run, Bake, Read And I work and watch tv and waste time in numerous ways…
Basically, you’ve spent MONTHS training SUPER hard for something. You put in a ton of miles every week and forget what it’s like to walk without wincing in pain. And then it’s time for the taper, and you’re not quite sure what to do with this free time, and you’re TOTALLY freaking out thinking ‘OMG! What if I haven’t trained enough!’
A Marathoner: 3:30 or Death. No. Other. Options.
I will say upfront that I am not very good when it comes to taper week. I largely attribute this fact to ignorance. Last racing season, I didn’t really understand why rest was so important before a race and how to strategize during taper week. I’m not saying that I’m that much more knowledgeable right now, but I do have a plan this time around
Training Hard, Hardly Training “she’s a runner, a rebel and a stunner…” red hot chili peppers
And of course taper madness me flips out, I mean I can’t leave work early 2 days in a row!! So unfortunately I have to go mad early like before work tomorrow…but it’s just like I want this thing starting to be taken care of already! Not much time left…On top of all this, I feel fat from the reduced mileage and from the eating more/carbo-loading. Especially since I was bad today and had to indulge in the warm chocolate souffle
Am I Mad Yet? running with endurance the race set before me (Hebrews 12:1)
Second One Week Out taper trap that definitely applies to me:
Trap: That Sinking Feeling
Symptoms: A feeling of malaise, depression, and hopelessness, which often accompanies the physical sluggishness that intensifies at the end of a taper.
Cause: “Generally, running counters feelings of anxiety and depression,” says Hays. “So as you run less miles, bad feelings tend to crop back up and increase.”
Solution: Take a short-term approach. “You only have to get through the rest of the taper,” says Hays. Do a little low-impact and low-intensity cross-training–like pool running–to generate the good feelings you normally get from running. Also, use your downtime to focus on other things that bring pleasure to your life, such as listening to music, cooking, and being with family and friends. And rent some funny movies or read a few joke books to lighten your mood.
Every stupid ache and twinge heralds pre-race injury.
Taper madness is still in full swing.
True to their toddler-esque name, taper tantrums led me to not only get cranky, but to act out in rebellion, staying up past midnight to watch the Yankees game and devouring two unbelievably delicious salty-oat cookies from Teaism
It’s tough to cut back the mileage you have come to love and count on, especially if you are feeling really fit and really eager for race day. But too bad! You need to. Running less reduces your risk of injury, gives you time to rest and recover, and allows your muscles to store carbohydrates in preparation for the big race. There is no benefit at this point to working out super hard. So don’t overdo it. And don’t start doing new kinds of exercise that your body isn’t used to during the times you would have been running. This can put new stress on your muscles and cause fatigue and soreness that will not help you on the big day.
Conversely, don’t under-do it. Do the miles in the training log! Maybe you are starting to max out on running, and you are looking forward to the taper as a break from running before the marathon. It’s not a break! You still need to keep up your fitness level. If you cut too many miles from the schedule, you will feel deconditioned and sluggish come race day. You have worked too hard to let it all go to pot now.
Here is my plan for this week. I didn’t run last night, but am looking forward to tonight, and the rest of the week, ending in a Half Marathon Relay in Sacramento:
TOUGH STUFF IS OVER. Now just fine tuning!!
Monday: 1-hr walk-Done, with pictures!
Wednesday: 6-miles [1m w/u @ 10:45, 4-miles @ 9:50, 1m c/d @ 10:45Friday: 6-miles [Hi's & Low's: 1m @ 10:45, 1m @ 9:45, 1m @ 10:30, 1m @ 9:35, 1m @ 10:20, 1m @ 9:20-9:30] + CORE WORK
Saturday: 3-miles Relaxed & Easy just to stay fresh and looseSunday: 7-miles in the Relay
***By the way, go to Racevine for a big winter giveaway. I always put my race reviews there!!***
“Lay It Down”
Yesterday’s 20 mile run was brought to you by Shaun White, who after winning the Gold in Vancouver, was asked by reporters how he could have done such an amazing, death defying, stunning stunt. Shaun’s reply?
I just laid it down.
I had read Kara Goucher’s interview in Runner’s World on Saturday, and read that she has a tough time mentally during her races, and she cues up a word, fighter, to get through. I tried that word yesterday, but it didn’t work for me.
Then, Shaun’s words started coming out of my mouth. Like what he did looked so HARD, and yet, he just laid it down. It was the attitude I was after. Complete ease. Pull it out. Lay it down.
Sunday was a dress rehearsal for the LA Marathon, coming up on March 21st. I ate carbishly on Saturday, and while I had 5 kids at dinner, I mostly relaxed and hung around the house.
Saturday I got up at 5:15 to eat, just like I would in a few weeks. Wheat bread and peanut butter. I had no bananas, and was really sleepy. Then I remembered on my Half Marathon in Fresno, I had a small cup of coffee. Very small. And, I PRd that day…So I heated up some coffee and had a slug.
Kim came over at 7:15, and we took off. Her plan was to run the first ten miles with me, and I would drop her off so she would get ready for church.
Miles 1-5 were about an 11 minute pace, and felt great. Spring Creek Loop.
Miles 6-10 were getting slower, a 12 minute mile. Jack Tone loop.
Then I dropped her off.
Miles 11-15, I thought would be easy, because it was the Spring Creek loop again. It wasn’t easier. In fact, it was now 9:30, the sun was up and around 60 degrees. As I started out there, I had to mentally prepare myself for running the same road again. When I got to 11 miles, I could breathe a little easier, because now I was in single digits. The mile splits here were about 13-14. My feet were starting to hurt, my lower back was talking to me.
As I approached the catwalk for the third time, I had to pull out some words, and I just started saying, LAY IT DOWN LAY IT DOWN. I didn’t want the bonk from last weekend, because it took until Wednesday for me to pull out of the spin of NOT doing the miles. It was about getting. it. done. I didn’t want to say I couldn’t do 20 miles either. I want LA. I do.
However, the last five miles were brutal. I got in 14 minute miles for 2 of them, then I had to struggle to stay upright. I forced myself to take my last Honey Stinger, which I like, but I just didn’t think I needed it. That’s the thing. You don’t THINK you need to follow your plan…but I did it anyway, and was glad.
The sun was hot on my skin. I approached the 8th overpass of the day, and I knew I was going to finish. I had Powerade (it’s on the race course) in one of my bottles, and I had water in the other. Both were nearly depleted.
When I finally stopped at 20 miles, I was a block from home.
I do know this. (From my friend Shannon)
Dead Legs Follow A Positive Mind
Everytime I wanted to stop, I remembered this. I was a positive as I could possibly be. Knowing I could do it. Knowing I would finish. Giving myself the support I give to others. Knowing that I was NOT stopping until the time was up.
My only question is….How will I add 6.2 miles to the end of this run?
Time to taper, and get my mental game on…
20 miles, 4:16, 12:49 pace
20 mile motivation
Ran a 5 mile tempo run this morning, with 1 mile up and back. Spin class tomorrow was taken off the docket. All that’s left of this training before taper is the 20 miles I’m going to lay down on Sunday. I will cue this up right as I’m leaving. Please send all your mojo love at 5am PST Sunday.
Happy Friday!!
Ms.V on the Treadmill…One Night Only
Through no fault or planning of my own, I had to go do speedwork on the treadmill tonight. It was pouring rain, but I’ve run in the rain before. It wasn’t dark yet, so that’s not a factor. I simply was alone, and it was getting dark and the roads were slick. So, I found myself at the gym.
I keep my $25 membership at the gym, because it’s so cheap. That, and I’m fiercely loyal…I have been a member of this gym for 10 years. You can’t get a gym membership for 25 bucks, and it has a bathroom, so if I have to use it, I can run in there if need be.
I come in, and get my treadmill. I’d rather stick hot pokers in my eyes than run on the treadmill, yet there I was.
And there I was. Five years ago. Standing around. Chatting with people working out. Leaning on machines. Yawning. What is it about this place that makes people do nothing? Wait, don’t answer that. I’m watching people come up to people’s machines, make small talk, stand … and leave.
I started my warmup mile. All good. I was startled with the feel of the pull of the treadmill. Not much work, just set the machine and go. A group of 4 20 year old young men take the machines around me. I’m well into my speed work, absolutely dripping, and on my jog cool down, they stop. They were on the treadmills no longer than 2 minutes. A young teacher I know is slowly doing the elliptical while watching TV. I am sweating. I am all over the place.
My body is screaming, I am one of those people with sweat all over the machine, and all over the ground around the machine. The 4 men leave. A group of women are standing at the child care. They are doing Zumba. Kids are screaming. The music is blaring. They are standing.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I know people work out. I just have a new filter right now. I am so used to burning it out of the road…and so used to making noises. So, I start clapping. Yelling at myself. Because interval 5 & 6 are killing me. KILLING me. People are still working out, and I am laughing, and pretending I’m on the road. By myself. I start singing Bohemian Rhapsody which is on my iPod, just like I do. I’m sure they thought I was insane.
Yes, insane. Judgemental. Annoyed. Critical of the standers.
As I laid down to do my core work, I couldn’t help but think of the woman who used to hang out in the gym, and the woman who just finished 50 minutes of speedwork (4.79 miles). She’s the same, and yet today, I wouldn’t recognize the first one if I met her on the street.
This too shall pass. But when?
have an absolutely empty tank.
but this video. watch it to the end. loved it.
unprepared
This is one of my favorite youtubes ever, credit going to LARunner , where I saw it the first time. Unfortunately, in yesterday’s run, I was the guy that stopped. That didn’t get going. I let my head rule the run.
The title is called unprepared. My partner was unprepared, but really I thought I had enough water for the both of us, so I also did not have what it took to finish this run.
On the schedule was 17 miles. I was so nervous, that I did nothing in the morning. I didn’t go to church. Was sort of paralyzed, really. We had planned to go at noon, but that will be the last time. Morning runs are key. For one thing, you’re done, and the other, mid-day, mid-sun runs are never good for me, and I should have known that. (Mistake #1)
Kim and I went out strong. Good 11 mile or so pace, trying to stay slow, so as to finish. We went over the Green Bridge to Salida, then to the mall in Modesto. All along the sidewalks. Lots of Sunday traffic, but smiles. I was feeling good. Took a salt tab at Mile 5, and it was working for me. I felt free, breezy, light. I told her she could have half of my water. I carry two bottles in a fuel belt, and thought it would be enough for the both of us. (Mistake #2)
We went over the Standiford-Beckwith overpass, down into the country, and what we thought would be a straight shot home. This was mile 7.5, and things were still on track. At Mile 8, I looked at her. She had no hat, no sunglasses, and was sweating. We were running into the sun, into farmers’ fields, and I started to worry about this. We chose to go into a field rather than fight the traffic on a 2 lane road.
Suddenly, we found ourselves in the middle of bees. Lots of bees. White boxes where they were living. And, before we could think I said, “We gotta get out of here, quick”. So, we had to turn around, and run over a cement bridge that was 1 foot wide. Not pretty. Not fun. As we ran along the other side of the canal, farm dogs were charging toward their fences. Finally, I saw a street, and thought we were headed back. This whole debacle slowed me down considerably.
At mile 9.7, I turned and saw that Kim was vomiting in the ditch. Here’s where the mistakes start to pile up. I couldn’t leave her. I knew that. However, I decided I would give her my bottle of water, because it was the right thing to do. She told me to go on, and I would take one with me. (Mistake #3?) I’m not sure what else I could have done, but suffice it to say, it was the best I could do in the moment.
Mistake #4 is trying to find the road to take me by Salida Middle School, and I couldn’t find it. I ran into a residential area, and it was way too crowded with Sunday peeps washing their cars, smoking, dogs, kids. Finally I asked someone how to get to the Middle School, and they pointed back OUT. When I got out, I could see Kim going further down a road that I didn’t think was the way, but at that point, I couldn’t get her attention. I could see Fiscalini Farms, where my friend Heather lives, and thought, if all else fails, I can go get her.
Mistake #5. I ran for a little bit. Then, I simply stopped. I laid down on grass in the shade, because I couldn’t take the sun, and I had less than one inch of water left in my last bottle. A car with two guys came up, and the driver said, “Are you okay? Do you need water?” I said yes. He brought out a half bottle of Dasani, and rather than drink it, I asked him to pour it on my salt lick arms. Mistake #6, because when your internal self needs water, and you put it on the skin, your body works to cool down the skin, not hydrate YOU. I looked to see what he was looking at, and it was blood. I had bloody nipples on my cute new pink top. Mistake #7. Wearing a top that isn’t tight enough to prevent this. I had only heard of this happening to men. However, I will only be wearing this for short runs, or yoga from now on, so not a total loss in the *lessons learned* department.
I was done. And it was only mile 11.5 I could see the freeway. Could see the Salida exit. Could see the joyous run from only an hour ago. And, I didn’t know where Kim was. We had originally planned for her to walk, and I would continue and get the car. But, since I didn’t know the area, I had no clue where she was (Mistake #8–always drive the route, as my friend Shannon says).
I got up, and started walk/running. I ditched my fuel belt. I had one Gu with me, but no water, so it would be pointless to take it. However, it would have been better than nothing. I ran to the Fire Station to get water. There was no one there. I turned on Ciccarelli Road…and found a little bit of heaven. I stopped at three orange trees. I peeled and ate. Peeled and ate. And, I knew I was done. I was doing a 22 minute mile here with all the walking, but I didn’t care.
Finally, I could see the overpass that would take me into Ripon. I sat down at one point. I couldn’t move. Oddly, I ran over the Hammett overpass. Huh. I walk the whole way, and run over the overpass. A biker stopped, and he waterfalled some of his water. I asked everyone if they had seen a girl in a blue top. At this point I was worried that she was out on the road waiting for me, or that I couldn’t make it home.
I forgot to turn on Crash Davis. But I think it was 15 miles in all.
I made it to the Shell station. Out of gas, dehydrated. I went in, and the attendant gave me a Gatorade. Never tasted anything sweeter. She said, “You’re training for a marathon, aren’t you?” She knows, because the Shell station is where I stop every day for the bathroom…Most days. I had no money, but told her I would bring her some. Then she let me call Kim’s house. This is when I knew I was in trouble, because I couldn’t remember her phone number. Finally got it, and she came and got me. She paid the attendant for the Gatorade, and got me up and we got in the car. She felt horrible. She was so sorry that she had taken the water, etc. She is not a long distance person…AND, she is an awesome partner, but I know I’ll be doing the longer runs by myself. I do not fault her. At all.
We drove back to get my fuel belt. We drove down Ciccarelli Road and laughed at all the orange peels. It was like Hansel and Gretel.
Unprepared. I was unprepared for this run in many ways. I have to take care of myself and my fuel. When I run with someone, I have to make sure they are ready too. I don’t listen to what I’m supposed to do in the fuel arena. Last night I was so dejected, I decided not to do the Los Angeles Marathon. Really. Today, that part is over, but I feel hungover at best…
And, I have 3 weeks to figure out if I have what it takes. Or if I’m going to be the girl that stays behind. Stay tuned.
Become Legendary
I’m no Michael Jordan.
I’m a 51 year old woman, training for my 2nd marathon.
I ran 4 x 1 Mile splits last night. In around 9:20-9:30 pace. I did 40 squats. I embarrassed myself summarily as cars were driving by…putting the squats DOWN. I was drenched in sweat.
I’m not legendary. Only to myself. And my kids. And my dogs.
But. At the end of the day, it’s really NOT about the marathon. It’s about THIS workout. How I pulled it out. All over the streets of our town. How I didn’t think I could do it.
And. And I did it anyway.
No excuses. If I can do it, anyone can.
in which i run from one town to another
(Click on Map to get a clearer picture)
Yesterday, I ran from Ripon to Escalon. On River Road. At dusk, with people coming home toward the west. In the sunset. Not my smartest move, but you know you have to fit these things in. Plus, I have a commitment at an AA meeting Thursday night in Escalon. Perfect idea.
The worst part of this kind of run, however, is to get from Point A to Point B in a certain amount of time. I had to be at 10 miles by 5:45. I left my house at 3:50, which gave me a quick 5 minute warmup walk.
My scheduled run was to be: 3 miles @ 11:00, 4 miles @ 10:15, 3 miles @ 10:00. I already had a pit in my stomach because I was rushed. One thing about having the Garmin: I don’t have to worry about how fast or slow I’m going. It tells me.
I wanted to keep to the 11:00 minute pace as much as possible, because I know for me, after 3 miles, I am just starting to get in my groove. Over the overpass, to Spring Creek, out Murphy to the dreaded River Road. I had never taken River Road out of town, so I said a quick prayer.
Surprisingly, there was a lot of room to run. I waved my arms wide to show cars how close I was, and this proved to be an effective technique for getting folks to look up from their phones. Only one girl, who’s head was in her lap continued to drive right into me at that point. I was feeling good. My ex-husband and son were bringing me a sip of water at Mile 5, so I knew I would have a little liquid. Miles 4 & 5 were 10:13 and change. I ran by McManis Winery, hitting it at a comfortable stride.
I came across a cattle ranch, with stench that reminded me of school days at Fresno State. It was horrific, because it’s foggy here, but it’s also starting to heat up in the afternoon. I got my sip of water, threw the bottle, and kept running (sorry farmer…I tried to find it on the way home).
From Mile 6-9 it was Dog City. Dogs would start barking on the farmer’s land, and start running toward me. I never could tell if the fences were open or closed, so I hauled ass. Literally. Nothing like the fear of a dog’s jowels in my butt to get me moving. Mile 6 & 7 I was at 10:22, so I was not hitting my paces, but the little sip of water in my gut was feeling uncomfortable.
There are 3 things I deal with on my runs: my lungs, legs & stomach. Usually my lungs are fine. I never feel tired, in fact sometimes I feel like I’m cruising. My leg issues usually have to do with my toes or feet. Oddly, the 6-7-8 mile toe numbing didn’t happen yesterday. But it was my stomach.
At mile 8, I started yelling at myself. Pull. It. Out. PULL IT OUT. I was supposed to be hitting 10:00 miles here. I wasn’t going to do it. I counted 5 farms with dogs, and the sun was setting. I had checked the Farmer’s Almanac before I left to make sure I would hit the end by the time I lost light. I was heading to the Escalon Sportsman Club, and there wasn’t a soul there. Still dusk though, so I was fine.
It’s probably my last time on that road. Too many obstacles for a lone woman, and not enough room for 2 to run. Mile 8 was still in 10:30 range, but slowly, I faded. Mile 9 was 11, and Mile 10 was 12:30? (I can’t remember, and don’t have the data with me.)
Overall, it’s 1.5 minutes faster than the California 10 in January.
I’m happy with this run…that I could stay in the 10 minute range for Mile 4-8. That was a major accomplishment that I wanted. I felt good. I felt strong. There were some dangerous head trips on side roads, which I willed myself to ignore. I’m happy that pieces of the town don’t own me much anymore.
I need to work on NOT giving up at the end, which is a hallmark of mine. My coach reminds me this morning that I am to instead think: I *only* have this much more go…instead of my usual *I can’t make it*. I am going to spin *GAG* for the next two weeks, and do a few more activities with nutrition designed to get me settled in to a comfortable place.
Peaceful, good. Just a bit too dangerous for this old gal. There were obstacles, but I have a dream. I have faith.
Tuesday Speedwork
We’re coming down to the wire.
I had a long talk with my coach tonight, because with Saturday’s run coupled with a big weight gain, I was ready to throw the towel in.
Tonight I get the prescribed workout:
5.5-ish miles [2m w/u @ 10:15, 6 x 3-min @ 9:10 w/jogging (NO WALKING) recovery @ no slower than 10:15, 1m c/d @ 10:30]. CORE WORK
Mile 1: 9:56
Mile 2: 10:08
Now. Mile 3-4ish, I couldn’t read the data, but I set it to only do minutes, and all I did was run my hardest: It was supposed to be 6×3 min + jog recovery (it didn’t state time, so I counted to 120) Then I just saw that the recovery was no slower than 10:15, which I didn’t know, so I jogged slower.
I turned off the Garmin after each 3 min.
Here are the paces. I could not see my Garmin:
9:06
8:59
8:54
9:14
8:55
9:55
anywhere from 9:31-10:23 last mile? I think 10:23 was the end, but I was mostly under 10
I have looked at the data every which way possible. The initial splits looks much longer, and then when I read it on a pace chart, my numbers were good. Even the end was just because I had to hit a circle, but at 4.5 I was on pace for a 9:35 mile.
Good run. VERY.
I had a long talk tonight with myself, and with my coach. My head said, “enough”. But my heart said, “Carry on.”
So I did.
Head Games
6:30 am
Dark Fog
I’m just like, let’s get this going.
Ending 3:09 12:37 pace
And I’m so concerned that it wasn’t faster, even though my coach gave me SPECIFIC directions to go slow. And it was during this run that I stopped running for the props I get from him, and started running to train, running for myself. To really improve. To get that BQ before I’m 60.
I was alone, my partner was sick.
I took off for the first five, down to Shell, to Spring Creek, to Vermeulen park, to Boesch…and where I planned to turn left, I turned right, because the thought of doing 3 loops made me crazy.
I went to the Jack Tone truck stop, to Mistlin park, and took a Gu at mile 5. I cannot stand the consistency, so the next 5 weeks to the LA Marathon, I’m going to be experimenting with different gels or substitutes. However, I seemed to have more energy.
Between Mile 6 & 8, I could feel my toes and the familiar numbing. I think my head started that incessant chatter of “You should stop you know. It’s too hard. You have too much more running to go.”
I turned at Santos, and was immediately lost in the fog. I just had to keep going. None of the farmhouses looked familiar, and for awhile I was concerned that I was on the wrong street. It didn’t help that farms had been recently excavated. I just kept running. I had to dodge a couple of cars…and am reminded that running in the fog has it’s own pitfalls. In the rain, cars can normally see you. In the fog, all of a sudden there they are: headlights.
Turned by Colony Oak, ready to run by Spring Creek again to go back over the overpass and out to the Stanislaus River trail. I was at mile 10, and knowing I was 5 miles from being finished helped. A little.
These miles were in the 12-13 minute range, and I was trying to stay slow, but honestly, slower is harder. I wanted to go faster, but my legs wouldn’t cooperate anyway, so I just kept running. I had to dodge some dogs, saw some nice people. But the fog.
When at last I reached West Ripon Road, and was 2 miles away, I started to realize how wet I looked. My hair was soaked, my eyelashes has drops of water on them, my top was as wet as if someone had thrown water on me. Out by Canal Street, and I knew I was one mile away. Knowing how close I was helped.
As I headed down my street, I felt the familiar power in my legs, the end. At home, I had an ice bath for my feet, which is hard…but so necessary for my recovery.
My only question during this run was, if this is hard, how can I add 11.2 miles to this? My other thoughts include some kind of gel substitute…and other technical questions.
But the real question is: Can I really do this?
