It’s 8 o’clock at night. The sun is creeping out of sight over the horizon.
I’m lacing up my ASICS and starting to anticipate what could be one of the hardest runs of my career.
“Quit whining, Uppie. So it’s 8 o’clock. What’s the big deal?”.
It’s still 100°F outside with over 80% humidity, that’s the big deal!
My dogged determination now outweighs common sense and I step off of my front porch.
I head out east. My headphones installed. The volume on the iPod adjusted to “loud”. The “Avenged Sevenfold” genius playlist is loaded and gives a little swagger to my walk.
I take in a deep breath of the evening air as I begin to plot my course. Will I stick with the usual route or be adventurous and explore a new neighborhood? What track will give me the miles I need tonight?
The decision is made and my warm up nears it’s end.
I’m standing at the corner of Ockley and Youree, patiently awaiting the go ahead nod from the flashing white guy on the pole, letting me know it’s ok to cross. My Garmin GPS watch is now zeroed in on my location and itches for the green light.
Welcome to my electronic starting line.
The blinking stick figure appears, and with a tap of my finger on the “go” button of my watch, my evening journey begins.
My legs begin to stretch out.
The iPod is deafening now.
I’m headed down Ockley and feeling good. I’m hitting my stride. My pace is right on task. But my breathing is a bit more labored than usual.
I’m rounding the corner on Kings Highway and I see the flashing yellows at the intersection ahead, which signals the end of my first mile (or close to it).
Suddenly I feel like someone just threw out a boat anchor behind me and tied it off to my waist. The air I’m breathing in is hotter than what my lungs are pushing out. My legs are showing signs of fatigue way too early. My mouth is really dry.
My energy is being bled out of me.
“What the hell? Five months ago I was running a half marathon, full of energy and stamina. Now all of a sudden I’m starting to fade?”.
Earlier in the summer I had convinced myself that if I could push my body through the summer and train hard, I’d be an even better runner in the fall.
Now I thought maybe I was mistaken.
My approach isn’t working.
What were the answers to my dilemma?
1) Slow My Roll
I read an article in Runners World magazine that addressed my problem and it suggested that I decrease my pace.
An “easy run” means exactly what it sounds like. Easy.
Traditionally I run just under a 8 and a 1/2 minute mile. The last few times I went out, I slowed my pace to a 10:00 minute mile.
It felt so horribly wrong. The competitor in me wasn’t adjusting to this well at all.
The positive side to slowing down was that I got my distance back. Endurance is what’s it’s all about, right?
2) Hydrate
This was a challenge I never overcame in the winter and it became a bigger problem in the summer.
I didn’t like the idea of carrying water or sports drinks with me. I felt like a bumbling, sloshing buffoon running down the street with little water jugs dangling from clips on my hip.
I found the right equipment for me and started carrying water on my run.
You can also drive your course in advance and hide water at certain intervals along the way.
This allowed me to avoid the chronic dry mouth and keep my muscles from locking up.
3) Mantras
Many experienced runners have mantras, or sayings, that they repeat to themselves to keep them motivated and on the move.
My friend Abrena, a marathoner, is always using the phrase “Be The Diesel”.
Mine, however, is far less clever and sounds like “Don’t You Dare Stop Moving Those Damn Legs You Pansy!”. Maybe I should’ve been a Drill Sargent?
Whatever it is you make up in your head helps you or hurts you. After you overcome your body’s desire to quit, the war moves to your mind. So be ready and keep it positive.
So, do I look like a grandpa somedays when I’m running now? Probably.
Do I slosh when I run? Most definitely.
Do I babble like a madman when I’m running through your neighborhood? Yeah, sorry about that. But in my defense, that problem existed long before I started running. Just count your blessings that I’m fully clothed.
Short of the long, I was training harder, not smarter.
I’m learning how to manage my body.
In the end, I’ll be a better endurance runner for it.
Like I always say, “Get started. Don’t quit.”.
See you on the streets!
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