Taper Tantrum

There is now less than a week until my marathon- and I can hardly believe that it's finally almost here. I run so many miles (at least a thousand this year), trained for so many hours, and put so much mental sweat into this race, let alone all the general nutritional preparation and decreased social life (ha).  But the biggest thing about the final week is that you basically can no longer prepare; it's already essentially already done.  The way you treat your body for the final week is, however, extremely important to being able to perform on race day. As I once read a coach say in a running magazine: the hay is already in the barn, you just have to stack it.  During this last week, you don't go on some last long runs to make sure you are ready- far from it. Instead, you have to make yourself just rest, sleep a lot, and wait. And eat more carbs.

So what happens during this time? Shouldn't it be a nice break? Well, not necessarily.  In fact, marathoners often call how they feel during this time a "taper tantrum." Like other runners, running is usually my distraction, my release from stress at work, my time to get my thoughts in order. I'm also an endorphin junkie at this point. I'm used to running at least 30 miles a week, sometimes as much as 50 in a seven day period, and now I had to bring it down to 7 total for the whole week.  I feel like I am chomping at the bit, feeling more and more nervous about the race, yet unable to release most of that nervous energy.  What's more, the very short runs sometimes even don't feel that enjoyable, because I am used to warming up for the first few miles.  I have to say, a couple of those three mile runs have just felt- awkward, as if I was no longer quite able to get fully into my rhythm. I also feel like I have had so much time on my hands- especially on the weekend, because I haven't been either preparing for or recovering from a 14-20 mile run.  I actually cleaned and organized my apartment for about 10 hours on Saturday as a result.

Flash had warned me that tapering would be difficult, and I knew it would be- but it's quite different when you are actually experiencing it.  It kind of feels like I'm being wound up like a spring, like my muscles are itching to really run.  To tell the truth, Flash has been having an even more difficult time with tapering than I have- he went on an unscheduled jog last weekend, and he ran the three miler yesterday reallly fast.  I have been having a pretty difficult time making myself only do what's on the schedule, but I'm doing it. I know that the people who created it know what they are talking about.

Five more days.

Chase the Rabbit

It shouldn't come as a surprise to many, but runners are a quite competitive bunch. I have spent a lot of time talking about the different psychological processes which help or hinder running, but one that I have yet to mention is what I call the "chase the rabbit" syndrome. When I am out running on roads, paths, and in races, I often pass or am passed by other runners, and an interesting phenomenon occurs: the person who is passed often speeds up their pace in order to keep up (hence the term "chase the rabbit"-- the passer served as an impetus to go faster).

This happens to me a lot when I pass someone, particularly a male runner. They hate being passed by other runners (especially a girl) so they speed up to run by again. I usually roll my eyes as they blaze by, since they had previously been just trotting along really slowly. It also happens to me in the opposite, however. Last week I set out at around midday on a cool and rainy Saturday for a solo 12 miler. I was planning on trying to go at a medium pace, since I had a 20 mile run the week after, but I didn't want to go too slowly either.  About a half mile into my run, a girl in a brown rain jacket ran by me, and I automatically sped up behind her. I didn't feel like I was really going all that fast, but at the same time, I wasn't holding back. A while later I looked down at my watch, and I was going close to 8 minute miles! I made myself slow down a bit, because I was not used to going so fast for such a long run. I ended up averaging just under 9 minute miles for the run, though, which was pretty good overall.

This last Saturday, my training friend and I all did our second and final 20 mile training race, this time down in Spotsylvania, Virginia. Flash and I went down the night before so that we could sleep in a bit more (as in, until 5:30 am instead of 4:30). The morning of the race it was about 47 degrees and sunny at the start, and warmed up to about 60 by the end, which was perfect for running.  There were only a couple hundred runners in the whole race, most of whom were using it as a training run for a marathon (like us).  At the gun, M was off like a flash with a blistering pace, and Flash and Speedy were both taking it slow- Flash likes to take races at a big negative split.  So I was sort of left in the middle, not wanting to start out too slowly, but not wanting to go too fast either.  Just like in my other 20, I chose a person up ahead of me who was easily recognizable (a couple, one with a bright yellow shirt, the other with a bright orange one) to be my "rabbits"- they seemed to be going at about the pace I wanted to go. Mostly, I didn't want to be out in the middle of nowhere all by myself again, so I thought that I could at least be near them.  As the crowd started to thin out a bit, the couple and I were getting to water stations at about the same time, and eventually we all started chatting with each other.  I was really glad that I had the chance to run with them, because I would have gotten so bored for another three-plus hours all by myself.

At about mile 15-16, though, the group I was with started to slow down, and I knew that would be deadly for me.  So I ended up having to go ahead, and lo and behold- at a water station, I saw Flash and Speedy behind me! They had whittled down their splits to mid-eight minute miles, so as they came up with me I tried to run at their pace.  It ended up being a bit too fast  for me, so I slowed to about nine minute miles, and as they pulled ahead they became my new "rabbits" (I didn't lose sight of them until we rounded a blind bend at the very end).  The end of the race was a bit odd; it was a dirt trail that led up a steep incline until there was a flat plateau to the finish.  Even though my feet were killing me, I sprinted up that hill and into the finish.  My time was 3 hours and 16 minutes, a whole five minutes faster than my time from the first 20 miler.

Now it's time to start tapering, or resting, before the marathon, which is less than 20 days away!!