Famous Last Words

In last week's post, I wrote that "The wall shall not stop me." Well, I must eat these words. On Sunday, the wall did stop me. In fact, I crashed into the wall like I have never crashed before.

The goal for Sunday was 24 miles. A couple weeks ago, I ran probably the strongest 22 miles I have ever run.

I was confident after running a strong 22 miles that 24 miles would not be a problem. Last week's 13-miler only further boosted my confidence.

I was really looking forward to this run. I started to carb load in the middle of the week. I had my route all planned. And, for the first time in forever, the weather was going to be awesome -- clear skies and warm ... maybe too warm.

At about 8 AM, Jody and I left the house. She joined me for the fist three miles. Once I left her side, the next nine miles were uneventful. I had to stop and stretch a couple times, but nothing that I had not done on previous runs.

At the 12.5 mile mark, I met up with Jody again who provided me another bottle of water and filled up my two little 9-ounce bottles (one is a diluted mixture of Gatorade and water) that I carry in my running belt. By this point, my pace had slowed.

The cloudless day and warmer temperature -- nearly 70 degrees by the halfway point -- was starting to take its toll. Also, Jody noticed that I had only drank less than half of each of my two bottles of water. But I pushed on, ready for the second half of my run.

Soon after leaving Jody, I noticed that I was having a hard time swallowing -- an indicator that I was becoming dehydrated. The inevitable was about to happen.

At mile 14.3 I briefly stopped. I couldn't explain it other than the body just said "I need a break." I relented but after a couple minutes, I started shuffling my feet again. I could not say I was out of the woods, but I felt good knowing that my break was not a long one. A mile later was a different story. At the 15.4 mile, the body could run no more. My legs felt like they were in concrete and there was no energy to keep them turning.

Although I had intended to run a few miles further South, I decided to turn around and make my way back home. After walking for a little bit, I tried to run again. Nope. Not happening. A few tenths of a mile later, I raised the white flag and acknowledged that I was in for a long walk home (at the point I stopped, I was over 8 miles from the house).

I then decided to do what I have never done before: I called Jody and asked for a lift home.

So, what happened? Simple: dehydration. How do I know? Two numbers: 181.8 and 172.4. Prior to my run, I weighed 181.8 pounds. After I got home, I weighed 172.4! Yes, I lost nearly ten pounds in just over 17 miles. Not good. The lack of water in my system meant that my body struggled to handle the sugar that I consumed in the form of the two GUs and diluted Gatorade. In short, my stomach was not happy.

It is amazing what a difference warmer weather makes when running. One might think that a clear day and Spring temperatures would be a welcome change for running. I beg to differ. I'm not saying that I would like it to snow again, but I already miss running in 40 degrees.

Next week, I am schedule to run 13 miles and the week after that I have one more 20-mile run before the marathon. I will use these last two long runs to work on my hydration so I can avoid another situation where I must raise the white flag.

Results

A few weeks ago, I wrote about my decreasing waistline as a positive sign of my training for the Green Bay Marathon. In fact, since that post, I have crossed the 180 threshold and had more days below 180 than above it. This week, I want to write about another type of result...

In March 2015, I ran my first 13.1 miles as I prepared for Door County. It was a grind of a run.

I remember by the end of the run, I could barely hold myself upright and my feet were shuffling along the ground as I inched my way to what seemed like an impossible distance.

Then there was Door County in May of that year...

By no means a bad race, but as I have written about before, I hit the wall hard during the last mile and had to walk. My time was more of the benefit of going out too hard rather than running a smart race.

Four months later, I ran a very smart Madison min-marathon...

This was slower than Door County because I paced myself so much better. I was much happier with the result of this run than the Door County race simply because I did not burn myself out in the early miles and felt strong for the entire race.

Prior to the Chicago Marathon, I would run 13.1 miles one more time but this was more of a leisurely long-run than an attempt to set any records. Alas, the run felt solid and I was officially set for Chicago.

Since the Chicago Marathon, I did not run 13 miles again until this past February, where I decided to run a hard 13.1 and see if I could improve on my time, which I did...

 

In less than a year, I managed to knock 7 minutes off my time and improve my pace by nearly 30 seconds per mile. Obviously, this is nothing to be disappointed about.

A few days ago, however, I looked at the goals I had set for myself at the beginning of the year. One of these goals was to run a half-marathon in 2:05:00.

This past Sunday, I decided to see where I was at in terms of my half-marathon time and my goal.

From the start, I pushed myself. I wanted to run a comfortably hard "race" with the goal being anything below a 9:30 min/mi pace, but ideally I wanted to get as close to a 9:00 min/mi pace as possible.

I could not have been any happier with the results:

For the first time, I ran a sub-2-hour half-marathon! This is even more surprising knowing that I had to stop twice to stretch my quads in order to alleviate pain in my knees (something the guy at the running store says is due to a "muscle imbalance"). In the process of this run, I set several PRs:

As Door County Half and the Green Bay Marathon approach, what I have taken away from this training cycle is that the body can endure more than I thought it could handle. Sure, I am stronger this year than last and the cooler temperatures have allowed me to pick up the pace without worrying about dehydration, but I am more prepared now to run through that wall. During my training, I have sought to push myself even when the legs grow tired and the body asks for a break. The wall shall not stop me. Even with the 13.1 mile run this past weekend, I had a couple moments where I felt myself slowing down but managed to dig deep and pick up the pace. Training for a big race can be frustrating and difficult to do because it requires so much time, effort, and self-motivation, but seeing results makes it all worth the effort.