Boston Marathon Race Report: It Does Not Matter How Slow You Go …

This is a picture of Smoot Bridge in Boston, the bridge measured in Smoots (the height of a guy named George Smoot. Read about it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smoot )

Boston Marathon: I don’t even know where to start. In the style of Dickens, It was the hardest race I’ve run, and the easiest race I’ve ever run. It was the fastest, and the slowest. It was the most isolating race and the most friendly race.

To be sure, it was certainly the hottest race I’ve ever run. Temperatures were 90F towards the end of the race. The Boston Athletic Association offered an unprecedented option to defer racing due to the heat; about 4,300 people (15% of racers) deferred to run next year. 2,000 participants (10% of the field), received medical attention.

My finish time was 4:28 ish, which is about 2 minutes/mile slower than my qualifying time [3:35:05]. I’m just happy I didn’t end up on a stretcher. You can see my splits here (my bib number was 15030).

In terms of the actual race, I guess the best place to start is at the beginning. I qualified at the Santa Rosa Marathon last year, with a time of 3:35:05. As mentioned, I had no plans to run Boston at a pace even close to that. Continue reading

So Long as You Do Not Stop

MIT, Cambridge, MA

Currently: relaxing before the Boston Marathon tomorrow. It’s supposed to be very hot. Check out this strongly-worded announcement from the Boston Athletic Association.

I took this picture earlier while wandering around Cambridge. This is on MIT’s campus. I liked how alien the construction looked – like something beings from another planet would have built. When I think about the warm race tomorrow, my mental picture is tinted this hot orange color.

From the announcement:

The weather situation continues to be a significant concern for Boston Marathoners. We have determined that the race will occur in a “red zone” which is considered an increased risk but acceptable for high-level elite runners. However, it is not considered safe for unfit and novice runners.

Those who are running the race should run much slower, adding several minutes to your per mile pace.

Continue reading

Boston Marathon – Pre-Race Ponderings

Took this last night at dusk, near MIT in Cambridge.

Last year, I qualified for Boston with a 3:35:05 marathon. I’ll be running the Boston Marathon on Monday.  Here are a few things I’m thinking about as the race approaches.

It’s no big deal.

I’ve run almost four times as far before. A marathon isn’t a super long race. It’s comparable to most solo long-runs I do on the weekends.

It’s kind of a big deal.

Qualifying for Boston is actually really hard. Sometimes I wonder how it was possible that I ran that fast, and I wonder if I’ll ever run that fast again. 8:12 miles for 26.2 miles is pretty impressive, even though it doesn’t feel like it.

Also, my parents think this is pretty cool; they flew out from California to cheer me on.

I’m not planning to run a PR.

  • I’m injured. The knee is feeling a lot better, but it’s still not at 100%.
  • It’s going to be hot. The weather forecast predicts a high of 87 degrees. The Boston Athletic Association just sent out an email recommending that inexperienced runners don’t run this race. In fact, because the weather is so bad, BAA is offering deferred entry to the 2013 race. That pretty much never happens. It doesn’t look like they’ve updated the website yet, but here’s verbatim what they said in the email:

We are now making the recommendation that if you are not highly fit or if you have any underlying medical conditions (for example-cardiac disease, pulmonary disease or any of a number of medical problems), you should NOT run this race.

Due to the unusually warm weather forecast for the Boston area on Monday, the B.A.A. will defer the entry of those official entrants to the 2013 Boston Marathon for participants who decide not to race.

This will be the only time I run this marathon.

I like races where you show up, get out of your car, then start running. When you finish, you get back in your car and drive away. Easy, fast, low-stress, and no room for error.

This particular marathon, logistically, is very complex. Packet pickup is several days before the race. Runners have to ride a bus to the start line – a full three hours before the race actually begins – then wait around in corrals until their gun. The registration process was equally complex.

I like simple races.

Track me if you want to, but don’t expect blazing speeds.

My bib number is 15030. You can track me online, of via text messaging. Tracking information here.

Summary: this will be a fun, slow race.

The entire city of Boston is pretty excited about this race, and I hear that most of the course has people cheering on the sidelines. Clearly I’m not going to be running this very quickly, so I plan to take my time and fully enjoy the experience of running the world’s oldest annual marathon.

Confessions of an Injured Runner

This is not a stress fracture! Also, check out my dense and well-defined muscles.

“Let’s go schedule a followup. You okay to walk?”

“Yep. Let’s go.”

I stood up and walked out of the room. Blood quickly started draining out of my head. My vision looked like a poorly-focused vignette.

“Nope.  I need to sit down again. Hang on a minute.”

My name is Lisa, and I’m an injured athlete.

That exchange was about five weeks ago, in a doctor’s office at Stanford. The doctor had just told me he was about 80% certain I had a stress fracture. It was on the growth plate of my right tibia. I most likely wouldn’t be running for about three months.

“What can I do?”

“Swim.”

The next few days were disastrous.

I was immediately terrified that, without a regular exercise routine, I would promptly gain 40 pounds and never be an athlete again. Despite the irrationality of this thought process, it seemed like a very real outcome. To try and combat this perceived impending obesity, the first thing I did was sign up for a membership at 24 Hour Fitness, the only gym nearby with a pool open at all hours of the day. Within a week, I was swimming 2 miles a day. Within three weeks, I was up to 3 miles.

In my mind, I was no longer a runner. I wasn’t actively running, and it wasn’t clear when I next would, so that meant I wasn’t a runner.  I felt like I was lying to the world, posing as a runner when I clearly wasn’t one. I didn’t tell anyone about my injury. I was too embarrassed, and it was too painful to think about it, much less talk about it.

I stopped eating for about a week and dropped several pounds. Because, in my mind, I wasn’t an athlete, I didn’t know how to eat anymore; food no longer was categorized as fuel. It was an undefined quantity with no clear use to me.

The first few weeks were worse than any breakup I’ve ever been through. After a breakup, I could pound out a hard 10 miles to work off the emotional turbulence. Running has always been a way to burn of pent-up emotional confusion. This injury was the first problem I had encountered where it couldn’t be solved, or at least temporarily alleviated, by running.

Every time I felt pain, I imagined my bone splitting apart. It was nauseating.

A few weeks later, I went back for an MRI to confirm the diagnosis. I made sure to eat breakfast beforehand; I had convinced myself that the dizziness from the last visit was due to low blood sugar, not shock.

There was good news, and bad news.  The good news: it wasn’t a stress fracture. The bad news: it was tendinitis. Recovery time for tendinitis can be as short as 4-6 weeks. I was relieved, but it also didn’t immediately change anything I was doing. I still had to spend every morning confined within the walls of a windowless gym.

Sidenote: There’s no doubt in my mind regarding what caused this injury. I didn’t give myself enough time to recover after my 100-mile race. Consider that lesson learned.

Today, about five weeks after the first diagnosis, I ran 1.25 miles without pain. Today is the first day I’ve felt real optimism that I’ll run again.

Over the past few weeks, things have settled down a bit. I’m cycling almost every morning, and I’ve started lifting some weights. An exercise routine has been successfully established.

I’ll probably do some additional writing on different facets of this recovery process, mainly so others can read about some of the things I’ve learned. Having never done any research on injuries prior to this event, I’ve definitely learned a lot about injury prevention, recovery, and some specific health issues, like the female athlete triad.

Because of this process, my motivations and psychology around running and my approach to life have been torn apart, laid bare, and pieced back together. It’s been an eye-opening experience, made even more shocking because of the relative lack of severity of the injury.

Importantly, I’ve come to terms with this injury. Just because I’m not running today doesn’t mean I’m not a runner. I’m still a runner. I’m just taking a vacation.

Have you had a sports-related injury? How did you recover?

Why I Run in the Mornings

This picture is why I run in the mornings. I grabbed this shot of Oxford's River Isis, which is the part of the Thames that runs through the university town, a few years ago while studying there. These intrepid Oxford rowers were braving the chilly morning for a chance to practice on the nearly-empty water.

This is why I run in the morning:

  1. Sunrises.
  2. Morning exercisers are more likely to actually work out than late-day athletes.

For me, working out in the morning means getting it out of the way. I can rest on my laurels the rest of the day.  Best of all: I don’t have to worry about fitting in time after work.

That being said, pretty much all evidence indicates that working out in the afternoon is more beneficial than working out in the morning.

Why?  It’s better to exercise in the afternoon because your core body temperature is highest in the afternoon.  This means you’re faster, stronger, and have better reaction time in your afternoon workouts. (Note: afternoon is defined generally as between 4pm and 7pm.)

Interestingly, most running world records have been set during afternoon competitions.

However, morning athletes at far more likely to actually do their workouts than afternoon athletes. To me, that’s more important than the marginal gains to speed and efficiency.

I work out in the morning because I like the consistency. I won’t be interrupted by other obligations that might pop up during the day.

No matter what happened the day before, I’ll always have my run in the morning. It’s a chance to start over, and start fresh.

Also, sunrises are gorgeous.

If you’re an elite athlete for whom small percentage gains will make or break your performance, work out in the afternoon. If you’re like me, and you aren’t about to break any world records, you can pretty much work out whenever you want to.

Takeaway: For those interested in improving performance, afternoon workouts are best. For those interested in actually getting their workouts done, morning workouts take the cake.

Do you prefer morning or afternoon workouts? Why?

How to Nom During a Race: One Step to Success

Fueling for a race isn’t difficult.  Here’s how I do it:

End of post.

Just kidding.

Why does this heuristic work? Basically, your muscles store fuel, just like a car. Generally, you have enough fuel for about three hours of aerobic, or low-intensity, activity before you need to stop for gas.  Muscle fuel is called glycogen. Eating calories fills up your fuel tank. Working out uses that stored glycogen.

A lot of runners are familiar with the phenomenon called “Hitting The Wall.”  Hitting The Wall happens towards the end of a marathon, when your muscles run out of glycogen. Endurance athletes, like marathon or ultramarathon runners, have to figure out how to eat during their longer runs. Obviously these races will take longer than three hours.  My advice: each athlete needs to figure out what works for them by trial and error.

Here’s what works for me:

I don’t eat solid food unless I’m running a distance longer than a marathon. I also don’t eat unless I’m at an aid station. Aid stations are usually an hour or two apart, which seems to be far enough to prevent over-consumption, and short enough that I can get enough calories. I usually skip eating at the last aid station, because those calories won’t actually help me finish the race; it takes a bit of time to digest and metabolize calories. The benefits of consuming calories during a race, are, unfortunately, not immediate.

So, what about workouts that are shorter than three hours? You probably don’t need to eat.  Let me reiterate: You probably do not need to eat if your work out is shorter than three hours.  In fact, eating during any workout can be detrimental to your performance during that workout.

When you eat, your body diverts energy from your workout to your digestive system.  Because your body is spending so much energy on your activity, it has a hard time digesting any calories, especially solid ones, during a workout. (Side note: this is why energy gels, like Gu, work so well – they aren’t solid calories).

I’ve only hit the wall once, and it wasn’t even during a long race. I was running a half-marathon training run – not a race – with some runners in San Francisco. I hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning, and it was a late start run. I had about 0.5 miles to go in the run, and I crashed; I felt dizzy and light-headed. I could see my car from where I was, but I had to lie down on the grass for several minutes before being able to walk slowly to my car.

Based on this ideology, here are some things that don’t make a lot of sense to me:

  • People who run half-marathons, or even marathons, with CamelBaks.  The added weight might cause injury, and you don’t need that much space to carry water with you. Honestly, even carrying CamelBaks during well-supported ultramarathons doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.
  • Hash House Harriers.  Trust me – you guys do not burn as many calories as you consume during those events.

Caveats: This post has nothing to do with pre-workout or post-workout nutrition. It also has nothing to do with consuming water.  It’s only about consuming calories during a workout.

Additional Resources:

Tl;dr: See the first graph.  Seriously, this works. Just find out what your equivalent of three hours is and go from there.

What’s your favorite food to eat during a long race?

Runner Heaven

Santa Cruz Redwood Forests. This was two-tenths of a mile from my dorm at UCSC.

Every runner has their own personal Runner Heaven.  This is the place where they mentally retreat when the present outlook is bleak. This different for every runner, but it serves the same purpose; it’s an escape from whatever’s happening at that moment.

Runner Heaven is a get-out-of-jail-free card.  It’s the place that gives us respite and helps us cope with less-than-ideal running conditions in the moment.  If runners were to design their own, ideal trails to run on, the trails would look like their Runner Heaven.

For me, I escape to the Santa Cruz redwood forests. When I’m at mile 45 of a race, dragging myself up a a vertical ascent, I imagine myself in Santa Cruz. When I’m travelling for business and my morning run is next to a highway, I imagine myself in Santa Cruz. When I’m stuck on an airplane and the seat in front of me is reclined, I imagine my trapped legs gliding over the Santa Cruz trails. Freedom.

The Santa Cruz redwood forests are some of the most beautiful trails I have ever run. Shaded by towering giants, the paths are covered in soft pine needles, ideal for the kind of running that makes you feel like you’re flying.

The best part of the Santa Cruz trails is the light. The redwoods filter sunlight to the forest floor, creating a diffused glow that feels like a quiet summer day. It’s gentle, peaceful, and isolated.

The trails go for miles, and it’s often rare to see another person.

The Santa Cruz trails are my Runner Heaven. They’re my running home. They’re the trails I know better than the streets I grew up on.

If I had gone to school anywhere else, I probably wouldn’t have picked up running. But the Santa Cruz redwood forests were too compelling to ignore.

When I’m frustrated about running, or about life in general, I think about the Santa Cruz redwood forests. These trails seem eternal, and that’s comforting. They’ll always be there. They’re my Runner Heaven.

No two runners have the same Runner Heaven, the same trails they imagine themselves bounding over like antelope, adrenaline and endorphins pumping. But the outcome is the same.

Everyone, runner or not, has a place they like to retreat. For runners, our mental escape is Runner Heaven. In Runner Heaven, nobody can keep up with us. Runner heaven is the place where we’re strong, fast, and at peace.

Where’s your Runner Heaven? Where does your mind go when you’re stressed out?

Why do you run?

Santa Cruz, CA, where I ran my first half marathon.

Motivation is a complex concept.  In theater, the most compelling actors are those who understand the motivations of their characters. What does this character want? What does this character want to accomplish? What is motivating this character?

When I first entered the world of ultrarunning, I asked several elite ultrarunners why they ran.  Their answers, superficially, seemed compelling. One runner said he did it to see how far he could go. One runner said she ran in honor of a dead relative.  On the surface, these seem like acceptable, persuasive motivations.

However, the deeper I get into this sport, the more I realize that motivation is never just one thing. Rarely can motivation be summarized in a pithy elevator pitch. Motivation is many-layered, difficult to describe, and, most importantly, changes over time.

I run for many reasons, and have run for many more reasons. My motivations for running will inevitably change in the future, too.

However, the reason I started running was humility.

The Badwater Ultramarathon is a 135-mile footrace in Death Valley. The race is run in July, when temperatures regularly reach 120 degrees.  It starts at Badwater, the lowest point in the Western Hemisphere. It finishes about halfway up Mount Whitney, the highest mountain in the contiguous United States. Cumulatively the course boasts 19,000 feet of elevation gain. The course snakes through some of the most treacherous desert in the world. Runners have to run on the white line on the side of the road to prevent the soles of their shoes from melting.

I had the opportunity to crew for a runner who participated in this outrageous excuse for a weekend activity. Just watching him run this race was transformational.

Afterwards, a half marathon didn’t seem like something worthy of being called a challenge. A runner would have to run ten back-to-back half marathons to approach the distance Badwater covered.

I ran my first half marathon around a 0.5-mile track at UC Santa Cruz. I ran it by myself. It took a very long time. The varsity cross-country team started training after I started running, and left before I finished.

My first motivation to start running was the realization that no matter how far I ran, someone would always have fun farther.

Today, when asked why I run, I give a crisp elevator-pitch of a response. Motivation is too multifaceted to sum up in a single conversation, and, most of the time, casual conversationalists don’t want to hear more.

Whatever their motivation, runners keep heading out to the trails. Every day, runners are compelled to get out of bed and tie on a pair of running shoes. Something’s got to keep them moving. Something’s motivating each and every runner.

No two runners run for the same reasons. I’d also wager that there are very few runners who run just for one reason.

And there are many of us who may never be able to fully articulate why we run. But, until we can’t run anymore, we’ll just keep putting one foot in front of the other.

And delivering pithy one-liners that don’t adequately describe our real motivation.

Question: What do you say when people ask you “Why do you run?”

No Excuses -or- How to Finish A Race

I went running at Lake Tahoe this morning, not far from where I ran my first ultramarathon. It got me thinking about my first few years as a runner.

Lake Tahoe just before sunrise. I woke up early to snap this with the Galaxy Nexus.

For my first few years of running, I made a very concerted effort not to read anything about running. I didn’t know what Runner’s World was, or that there was at least one magazine completely dedicated to trail running. I didn’t have any close friends who were runners. I read nothing on the Internet about tapering, nutrition, shoes, gear, or anything else.

I didn’t want to give myself any excuses for failure.

At the end of the day, the only way to get better at something is to keep doing it. There are no shortcuts. The only way to improve is to put in extreme amounts of hours. Some people have genetic predispositions towards certain skills, but that doesn’t mean they don’t practice.

Running, to me, is putting one foot in front of the other, and doing that over and over. Everything else is secondary.

If you’re making excuses for not putting one foot in front of the other, you’re not getting better at running.

Running my first ultramarathon

Sports writing provides excuses for failure. Did you not finish that race? Don’t worry about it – your pre-race meal probably wasn’t the right balance of carbohydrates and protein. Oh, it was? What did you eat the night before? Those extra vegetables could have been the problem. What shoes are you wearing? Could be the wrong ones for the terrain, or for your feet, or for your stride. You may have needed more expensive clothing. Maybe you ran too many miles, or too few, to train for this race.

Tips for improvement can just as easily be excuses for failure.  Obviously, this isn’t always the case. I’m definitely not advocating for not educating yourself about running.  As with almost everything, more knowledge is better.

That being said, don’t give yourself excuses. There is no “secret sauce” for running.  There’s only starting and finishing.

You win if you finish.

5…4…3… (Official Launch: brbRunning.com)

Feeling pensive - took this photo at sunrise this morning along one of my favorite running routes.

Sunrise along one of my favorite trails, near work. Taken this morning with Galaxy Nexus.

Humans have a tendency to want to record. We scrapbook. We journal. We take too many photographs. We want to remember, and we want to share. Why do you think Twitter and Pinterest are so popular?

I’ve done a lot of running over the past few years, which means I’ve spent a lot of time alone on the trails. As any runner knows, running is a great time to think.  While putting one foot in front of the other, we ponder the mundane (what should I eat for lunch?), the obvious (why am I doing this, again?) and the profound (were we really Born to Run?).

I’ve reflected on writing about running for quite some time.  However, it’s always seemed to be that only elite, accomplished runners are allowed the self-indulgence of regaling anonymous throngs of readers with stories that basically all end the same way. It wasn’t until I ran the Rocky Raccoon 100-miler, and wrote about it afterwards, that I realized I don’t have to finish first to tell a decent story, and that maybe some people will want to read it.

Runners have great stories, and other runners like reading those stories.  As such, I think this blog has been a long time coming.

So, here we go! On this blog, you can anticipate harrowing tales of pain, exultant accounts of success, and enlightened insights about running.

Maybe.

At the very least, you’ll stay up to date on my running. I think there are some nuggets of wisdom buried beneath thousands of miles on the trails.