Friday, September 28, 2007

I Suffer and I Like It

Lance Armstrong to his young son Luke: “What does Daddy do?”
Luke Armstrong: “Daddy makes them suffer.”
Sports Illustrated, August 4, 2003


This essay is about suffering. The kind of athletic suffering that makes you question your very sanity. The kind of suffering that makes you look at the next week’s long run and say, “Wow, we ONLY have to run 14 miles on Saturday. Shouldn’t be too bad.” The kind of self-imposed suffering that makes your wife say, “You need help.”

It’s been said that running long distances is partly psychological and partly physical. There’s the training and conditioning your body to handle long runs. Pretty simple enough. And then there’s the mental preparation involved in the same enterprise. In my mind, an entirely different proposition.

As I’ve become a more experienced runner over the last few years, with one marathon and two half-marathons under my belt, I’ve begun to learn that I’m in the 90 percent mental and 10 percent physical camp. Here’s a few thoughts on why. . .

Out of hundreds of training runs in my life, I’ve “quit” two of them. I can remember and describe the context of both and the fact that I didn’t finish them still pisses me off to no end. Both of them were years ago and, looking back on them now, I realize they were cases of mental weakness on my part, pure and simple. Huh?

In other words, I wasn’t feeling well physically and, instead of having the mental toughness to overcome it, I gave in and I quit. They weren’t very long runs, by any means. I was simply having a sub-par day physically and I let that overcome my will to finish the run.

Lots of endurance athletes know this feeling; your body is saying “no mas,” but it’s really not shutting down on you and you’re not in real physical danger. Instead of pushing through this wall, however, you give in and let the ease of quitting defeat the notion of pushing through and finishing.

Training for and running a marathon gives you the opportunity to see how tough you really are. Whether your burning desire to accomplish something that few can is enough to overcome your desire to stop.

Few athletic endeavors possess the “suffering” factor of marathon running and I believe it’s the sheer individualistic nature of running that makes that the case. Oh sure, you can be cheered on by the crowd or encouraged by your running partners and that can certainly play a role. But, in the end, it’s you, and you alone, who must force one foot in front of the other in spite of the pain and exhaustion and overwhelming desire to quit.

That said, the suffering pays off in the incredible sense of accomplishment you gain from overcoming the challenges of these long runs. There’s the endorphin rush that you get after the run; there really is something to that “runner’s high.” More importantly, it’s something you can carry around with you to get through other tough times. “If I can run 26.2 miles,” I’ve often thought, “surely I can get through THIS.”

So I run. And I suffer. And I like it. Really.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Great Run Today---Two Weeks to Go

Had an excellent run today. Temps were perfect (40s at the start) and Jen and I pounded out 15 sub-9:45 miles and ended with the last mile in 8:20. That’s crazy fast for a last mile and we both felt great.

Following last week’s issues during the 20 miler, I altered my tactics a bit and took much less water and Gatorade during the run today. And, I only did one PowerGel, at 10 miles, instead of doing one every five miles. That strategy seemed to work. I’m going to duplicate that during our last long run (“only” 10 miles) next Saturday and apply it to the race as well.

Two weeks to go and we’re beginning to fine-tune our pre-race strategy regarding sleep, nutrition, travel, rest, etc. More on that shortly. . .

Sunday, September 16, 2007

The Home Stretch

It’s three weeks to the Chicago Marathon and we’re hitting the home stretch and are getting ready to taper. Today, we did a 20-mile run along Lake Michigan in Chicago. It was the Ready to Run 20 Miler and was organized and sponsored by the Chicago Area Runners Association. It was not a race. Rather it was an organized run for those doing a fall marathon who are now at the point in most training programs where you run 20 miles.

It was designed primarily for those training for Chicago. Judging from the conversation, it seemed that the vast majority of runners today—about 3,000—are indeed running in Chicago in three weeks. However, there are a few other noteworthy fall marathons that I’m sure are on the agenda for some of the others.

It’s exciting and inspiring to be out on a training run with hundreds of others and with the incredible cityscape of Chicago as your background. It definitely carried us through the run. And, it was a nice change from the usual locations of our longer runs.

The run itself started at the Foster Ave. Beach and ended 20 miles later at the South Shore Cultural Center. As it has been during this year's training, my run fell into a pattern. The first few miles were a little rough; getting warmed up and settled into a groove. Miles 7 to 10 were great, as they usually are for me, as the motor was revving well and I felt like I could go forever. Then came what I refer to as the Dark Times, where I typically encounter some kind of soreness or something that forces me to push through the pain.


The suffering hit around 13 to 15 as my stomach, for some reason, felt tight and heavy. It was not the usual suffering and was damn frustrating. Not sure if it was a little overhydration or what, but it wasn't pleasant.

That essentially continued during the last 5 miles as I willed myself to the finish. However, I'm not that concerned about it as we stayed on pace the entire time (slightly below 10 min/mile) and finished strong. Just something for me to keep in mind as we get ready for the marathon itself.

We've now run 304 miles in 13 weeks training for this race. Has it been tougher physically or mentally? More on the mind versus body battle that is marathon training in a new post in a day or two. . .