Run Faster Mommy's Unofficial Guide to Training for an Ultra Marathon: Step Two
by Heather, who has in fact, never run an ultra marathon.
Step two: Get over yourself.
An ultra marathon, and the training journey to get there, WILL be humbling. Heck, a marathon is humbling. And while we are at it, running 2 miles the morning after you've had one too many glasses of wine the night before, is humbling.
Now is not the time to obsess over the pace flashed before my eyes every time I glance down at the Garmin. Now is not the time to dream about Boston, or to think about the people I can run faster than, or even worse, those who can run faster than me. Nope. Now is the time to give in to the dreaded heart rate training zone 2, and teach my body to be a well oiled endurance machine. Even if it comes at the sacrifice of 10, 11, 12+ minute miles, with *gasp* walk breaks so I will be able to survive a 5 hour/ 4 hour double over a weekend. Now is the time to prevent injury, not break PR's.
Who cares if you can run a 21 minute 5k, if your legs give out at mile 27, it does you no good. Get over yourself, Heather....you're gonna run SLOW. Embrace it.
And while we are at it, you know what else is humbling?
Trail running.
And I don't mean flat, wide, well groomed, but not "paved" roads. I mean honest to goodness, single track, with roots and rocks and trees and streams and a ton of mud...all covered with freshly fallen leaves so you have no idea what's underneath....trails.
Last night, I joined some local runners for a trail run...in the dark. Long story short, lit only by the glow of our headlamps and the beautiful *almost* full moon, that trail kicked my a$$. In a good way of course. My lungs and legs (honestly, who does Insanity 2 hours before a trail run?) SCREAMED at the first 2 miles that were straight uphill. Not being able to keep up with others even while pushing your limits is humbling. Though a relief to my lungs, I tried my hardest not to fall on the downhills. And towards the very end, right when I was really feeling like maybe I could earn some nimble mountain goat legs after all...the trail stuck a root out and tripped me. Nothing like a face plant into the mud (and an incredibly bruised kneecap this morning) to put you back into your place.
But I, of course, loved every second of it. Even today, when I feel like I took a baseball bat to the knee, and had an elephant stomped on my left foot, I still loved it.
And so, the journey continues. Fall down, pick yourself back up. Literally or emotionally, just get back up. It's the only way you will make it to the finish line.
(and here is Step One, incase you missed it)
Now is not the time to obsess over the pace flashed before my eyes every time I glance down at the Garmin. Now is not the time to dream about Boston, or to think about the people I can run faster than, or even worse, those who can run faster than me. Nope. Now is the time to give in to the dreaded heart rate training zone 2, and teach my body to be a well oiled endurance machine. Even if it comes at the sacrifice of 10, 11, 12+ minute miles, with *gasp* walk breaks so I will be able to survive a 5 hour/ 4 hour double over a weekend. Now is the time to prevent injury, not break PR's.
Who cares if you can run a 21 minute 5k, if your legs give out at mile 27, it does you no good. Get over yourself, Heather....you're gonna run SLOW. Embrace it.
And while we are at it, you know what else is humbling?
Trail running.
And I don't mean flat, wide, well groomed, but not "paved" roads. I mean honest to goodness, single track, with roots and rocks and trees and streams and a ton of mud...all covered with freshly fallen leaves so you have no idea what's underneath....trails.
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But I, of course, loved every second of it. Even today, when I feel like I took a baseball bat to the knee, and had an elephant stomped on my left foot, I still loved it.
And so, the journey continues. Fall down, pick yourself back up. Literally or emotionally, just get back up. It's the only way you will make it to the finish line.
(and here is Step One, incase you missed it)
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12 comments:
I am impressed. I fear trail running for all those reasons.
I LOVE trail running. I just can't ever go because 99% of my runs I have to take the stroller and I know that I'd pop a tire on the trails...
Slower running is definitely the key, and takes getting used too for sure. You'll rock it, just like you always do :)
Love it! I just recently started training with a trail running group and have found the exact same thing. It's crazy hard and humbling, but I love every minute of it :)
I haven't run real trails in a long time! Good for you!
Seriously impressed with your willingness to go run REAL trail in the (almost) dark. Moonlight kinda makes it a little creepy so I'm often jumpier and more apt to trip and fall, go figure.
I also chuckled when you said 10, 11, 12+ min miles. I'm working on getting my "walking/hiking" pace down to a 15! That's sad. And on sunday I saw my Garmin read 20-something on loads of hills.
In the Ultra trail running dictionary, pride is defined as the willingness to keep trying. Speed is defined as the opposite of being still. It's a whole different world in the woods!!
Loving your posts!!
I did a trail run last sat. It is tough and the falling down, I tripped twice. I was so afraid of twisting and ankle or stepping wrong that I wasnt picking my feet up high enough. I really enjoyed it, it was something different than always hit the pavement. I couldnt believe how fast the time went running the trail run.
Yep! Read enough race reports from trail ultras and you'll understand just how completable they are. Very cool.
I agree with you that it is not how fast you run, but instead what you accomplished, and how you feel that matters. I am not the fastest runner in the world- I run at about 10mph- but when I ran my half-marathons I didn't matter to me how fast I ran them. Just the mere act of accomplishing a half-marathon was enough for me to be satisfied. Congratulations on the trail running; that is also a difficult feat that I've never been particularly skilled at.
Good for you!! Good to hear you're loving the trails!
I've always been a trail runner. Tried running roads but the lure of the trail called me back. So much so I just completed my first trail marathon (never thought I'd run that far without ITB stuff stopping me). Technically you could call that "marathon" an ultra (nearly 29 miles), but it was so much fun I will be running my first real ultra sometime soon! I'm hoping for spring. And I DEFINITELY was not fast. It took me 6 1/2 hrs to complete. I wasn't last though, which was an accomplishment since it was along the gnarly Western States trail.
I don't know about you, but I've always found running hills at night by light of a headlamp easier than day because you don't see how big the hill is and you feel like you climb it quicker. That could just be me and my whacked sense of distance, though.
Yeah Heather! I loved my training so much that I ended up doing 2 ultras a month apart. I also have a few lined up for next year (all tentative) and a rail marathon. I love running the trails so much. Like you said, the single track is very humbling. Learning to walk up steep hills so you can run at the top and "fly" downhill. I think learning to walk was the hardest (I was already slow on the trails- but like you have the sub 21 5k speed on the road). Zone 2 is our friend...
My first 5K ever was an hones to goodness trail like the one you described. I can totally relate to you on the face plant. With 1/2 a mile left I stopped my fall with my face, got up, and finished the race. I was sure I was done with running. I got to the finish line, humbly admitted to my friends what happened, and showed them the cuts and bruises on my face. You know what happened? To my surprise they thought I was the coolest, toughest, most "hard core" person they knew! I was like "when did falling on your face become cool?" Apparently it was the getting up and finishing part that was cool. My response: "I didn't know I had a choice". So glad I'm not alone in the "trail run face plant"!
My first 5K ever was an hones to goodness trail like the one you described. I can totally relate to you on the face plant. With 1/2 a mile left I stopped my fall with my face, got up, and finished the race. I was sure I was done with running. I got to the finish line, humbly admitted to my friends what happened, and showed them the cuts and bruises on my face. You know what happened? To my surprise they thought I was the coolest, toughest, most "hard core" person they knew! I was like "when did falling on your face become cool?" Apparently it was the getting up and finishing part that was cool. My response: "I didn't know I had a choice". So glad I'm not alone in the "trail run face plant"!
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