The Decline

In my last post I talked about the top of the mountain, and how I am on the downhill side now with only two weeks to go.  When I was running with Glenda today, she asked me, "You only have two weeks to go!  Aren't you on that - what do they call it - decline?"  It's actually called a "taper," I laughed.  It is that time in marathon training which Glenda knows only too well (having run three marathons herself, including Boston) when mileage and speed decrease, and the runner begins to put something back in the bank, instead of withdrawing it.  It is a time of careful balance between feeling as if you are getting stale and doing too much.  Because the age-old wisdom is that you can't do anything to improve your condition at this point, but you can do a LOT to worsen it by overtraining in the last three weeks.

But I thought that "decline" was more appropriate!  We older runners have to become accustomed to slower times as we decline.  We have to settle for dropping back (as I did today during my 15-mile run when I knew that others were running much faster than I should).  For taking a nap.  Or taking an extra day of rest.  The important thing is to keep on running, even if we are slowing down.  "The older I get, the faster I was!"  Decline.

And yet, even though I am in decline, some days it still feels absolutely exhilarating, especially now when I have these reserves of strength to draw upon.  After 14 miles I decided to try to hit my "new" marathon goal pace of somewhere between 9:15 and 9:30 per mile (my Declining Pace), and I got up to speed instantly, feeling strong and graceful and ending up running a 9:20 mile. 

I recently stumbled on a website called Endorphin Warrior (http://www.endorphinwarrior.com/), and read the following anonymous comment under "Warrior Wisdom."

 "Every once in awhile, during a workout, I seem to cross over a threshold and get a glimpse of just how good I can be. These moments tell me, 'There is more'."

Even we declining runners can be warriors, and can continue to discover more.

The Top of the Mountain

My 22-mile run Saturday is the pinnacle of this training plan.  It went well, and I had the good fortune of having friends helping me most of the way, especially Martha in the latter miles.  "Many feet make for easier running!"  From this prospect, I feel as if I am standing on the very top of the mountain, and it is an exhilarating view - looking behind (long runs, Yassos, mile repeats) and ahead (the starting line, the finish line).  Only three weeks to go. 

What a glorious fall day - golden sun rising and making golden trees blaze into color.  I felt like I was a king, surrounded by so much gold!

Good Days and Bad Days

Writing in Running Journal several years ago, Marshall Ellis said, “I learned that there is no easy way, and I learned that no matter how hard you train, on race day you’re either going to have a good day or a bad day, and there’s not much you can do about it.”   

I have decided - after 145 races, including 17 marathons - that this is true.  And I hate to admit it, because by nature most of us believe that training is essential to success.  True enough - one cannot hope to run a marathon without training with dedication - but there is also this concept of Good Days and Bad Days.  On bad days, it feels like we are wearing ankle weights and there is absolutely no cushioning left in our shoes.  On good days, we can run like the wind.  It took me a long time to come to understand this!  And not only is it true for races, it is also true for training runs.  How else can I explain that I had so much difficulty finishing a planned eight-mile run on Friday morning that I cut it short a mile, while my 15-mile run Saturday morning went just fine?  The only explanation (rest, nutrition, sleep all being equivalent) is that Saturday was a Good Day!

According to the Richmond Marathon website, starting time on November 10 is 26 days, 19 hours, 28 minutes from this moment.  I will accept any day that comes along, but I will hope for a Good Day.

20 Miles Again

Saturday, my plan called for my second 20-mile run, only seven days after the last one.  That may seem a little unusual, but this plan has worked well for me in the past.  I have used other plans and felt in retrospect that they lacked the number and frequency of long runs and the overall mileage needed to run my best marathon.  So what was the effect?  It did not feel a bit easier during the run than last week (and, to be honest, perhaps a little more difficult), but I definitely recovered much better after the run.  Perhaps it was the potato soup that Martha made for lunch, but it may also have been that my body has learned to rebound from these long runs.  I found myself outside all afternoon, painting and raking leaves, rather than struggling to keep awake.

Which makes me wonder:  What would happen if I ran 20 miles every week!

The little voice of wisdom whispers sarcastically to me, "You'd get injured, you idiot!" 

Best to just be glad for the benefits of training finally starting to appear.  It is like that glimpse of view, that broad prospect, that you can see up ahead when you are climbing a mountain.  Only two more weeks and I will be standing at the very summit of my training, looking behind and ahead, when I might actually be able to believe that it is all downhill to the starting line at Richmond.

Tempo Runs

Wednesday, I ran my hardest workout to date.  It was "only" ten miles, but it was at a faster-than-usual pace (average 8:58/mile).  Tempo miles like this are meant to prepare a runner mentally for the effort of unrelenting miles, pushing at the same pace - in this case, a little faster than my goal marathon pace of 9:00 to 9:10/mile.  After three or four miles, you begin to wonder how you can ever maintain this for 10 miles.  But that is the great discovery about training - you just keep persevering, keep pushing, keep praying, mile by mile and finally you are doing the last mile.  Just like in a marathon.  Just like in life.

What more can a man do in this life but run strong and true, all the way to the finish line?