If there is one lesson I learned more than any other from the Murray Half-Marathon on April 13, it's listen to your coach.
As you might be able to guess, I did not listen to what my coach instructed me for race day. "Do not start in Z3. Run in Z2, build to Z3 and stay there," she said in my training plan. As a result, I did not finish the MHM in less than two hours. It was 2:17 and some change -- my worst time ever at this distance.
I was a little disappointed with myself. I chose a race strategy that I thought would work well. Throughout much of the running literature I have read, authors have advocated using a pace group to achieve time goals. I started with the two-hour pace group; however, the pace leader decided to run between paces of 9 and 9:20. For the first seven to eight miles, I had no problem.
Then I crashed.
Realizing I was not going to make my sub-two-hour goal, I ran -- and walked -- the rest of the course for fun. My husband came looking for me at mile 12 and finished the course with me. How proud of him I was! The triathlete in the family, he ran the course in 1:37:08. Although his time was 20 seconds slower than last year on the course, the time was good enough for a first-place win in his age group.
I was so ready for this half to come and go. The last 12 weeks of training have been tough. I have ran in the rain, wind and snow. There were few pretty running days these past four months. Throughout the training, I learned that I am not a half-marathoner. I am not saying this to doubt myself; I am being realistic. In fact, I read just last week that some runners' bodies are designed for distance, some for speed and others for in between, such as the 5K, 10K and other mid-distances.
Mentally speaking, seven to eight miles is about all I can handle. Here's a sidebar note: Having such a mentality did not start until I was in my third year of doctoral studies. I was training for my second marathon in the fall of 2010, and one of my courses was giving me fits. Training actually was going well -- I had completed two 20-milers and an 18-miler, with about four weeks left until the marathon in December. One Saturday, I was working on an assignment that was not progressing well and due the next day. I spent eight hours on it, and I still had to run 20 miles the next day. I became discouraged and just sobbed uncontrollably. My husband heard me, asked if there was anything he could do to help, and I remember replying as though it were yesterday: "Yes, you can go run my 20 miles for me tomorrow. I don't want to do this marathon anymore." That's when I realized I can't do it all. I dropped out of the marathon and felt tons better.
However, thereafter for some reason, I have had issues in running past eight miles. I talked with a sports psychologist who said I was projecting something I was stressing about -- in this case, my doctoral courses -- onto something I enjoyed, which was running. I basically was equating failure with both of them. The same problem has resurfaced, I'm afraid. I am stressing already about making tenure. I have six years to do this, but in the last two months, I have been writing conference proposals left and right. One journal article submission came back to me this week as a "revise and resubmit," which isn't bad. It wasn't a flat-out rejection, but it's the reality of academia, and I will have to learn to accept it.
I recount all this because in many ways, that mentality happened at the MHM. I wanted to shut down physically and mentally at mile 8. My friend Donna, who also was running the MHM, even caught me walking at that point and tried to encourage me, but I told her it was OK. Although much of the problem still rests with the fact that I didn't listen to what my coach said in my training plan, my mental energy since February has been tenure, tenure, tenure. I just don't want to be a failure in my new career as a college faculty member. And I still want to improve in my running. I just might want to try the MHM again next year, but for now, it's 5Ks and 10Ks.
So to get started this week, I am pledging to do my best in taking off a week from running. That is hard for many die-hard runners to do, so much so that withdrawal symptoms can occur. Running at lunch is my time to get away from the office and revitalize. I will try, but don't be surprised if I decide to pound the pavement by Tuesday.
Happy Running!
