A few years ago, I wrote a post on what I’d learned from
running and training for my first five marathons. I truly had learned a lot by
then (and I stand by those learnings), but back then, I thought I was pretty
close to knowing everything there is to know about being a marathoner. How
could I not after five whole marathons? Fast forward another five marathons,
and here’s the key thing I’ve learned so far: I will probably never stop learning. Why? Because most of what I’ve
discovered through each experience is not really about running at all, but about
me as a runner. Running is a deeply
individual experience, which evolves as we evolve. So, this post is not meant
to spew out facts or advice about running. But I do think there’s a lot that we
can learn from each other and commonalities that we can relate to. So, with
that all said… here’s what I’ve learned from marathons 6-10. Take it or leave
it J.
Injury proofing
In the marathons 1-5 post I mentioned how I was able to
stave off running injuries by changing up my shoes, and hence my stride. Turns out
that was only one battle in the much greater war. I have since won a few more
battles, but unfortunately I had to take a few hits before arming myself with
the right weapons. I truly don’t believe that running in itself is bad for you
– despite how many people try to tell me otherwise. But running is a repetitive motion – your foot strikes
the ground over a thousand times each mile. So if there are any slight
imbalances or weaknesses in the lower body, odds are they will manifest as an
injury. I am one of those people with imbalances and weaknesses, so I have to
work on injury-proofing myself. Like strengthening my hips and glutes to better
support my knees, stretching my hamstrings and calves to improve my mobility, strengthening
my left tibialis posterior so that I don’t end up striking the ground harder on
my right. Constantly monitoring my posture, cadence, and stride. I’ve learned
to become proactive instead of reactive about injury-proofing. But it takes dedication
as well as understanding of the kinetic chain and – more importantly – my body to be successful.
Training for speed
It’s no secret that more than anything I want to qualify
for the Boston Marathon. But after my first five marathons I was afraid to really
admit this goal out loud because I wasn’t sure that I could ever be fast enough.
So like any scientist would do, I did some research. I could bore you for hours
with everything I’ve learned about human running economy, but instead I’ll just
use a few equations!
I used to think the equation was simple:
Run more miles = Run
better marathons
For some people, maybe this is the right equation, but as
an injury-prone runner (see above), I found that my equation looks more like
this:
Run purposeful miles + Do a lot of
extra stuff = Run better marathons
Running in itself was not enough. It was how I executed
those those miles, plus cross training and strength training (tailored to my
specific weaknesses), that made the difference. I found the FIRST training plan
in which each of the three weekly runs serves a purpose to improve the body’s
efficiency. A three-pronged approach to becoming a speed demon (see what I did
there?) that focuses on quality over quantity. Not every marathon has been a
personal best since starting FIRST but I’ve managed to shave off 22 minutes from
my PR since marathon #5. Which brings me down to 17 minutes away from that
coveted BQ! A speed demon lives inside all of us. We just have to discover how
to unleash it.
Smart Racing
Racing strategy wasn’t really on my radar during my first five marathons. I just ran. But since then, it’s become clear that understanding
the course, the weather conditions, my abilities, and then tailoring my race plan
to these things can make a huge difference. The takeaway: once that gun goes
off, every choice, every movement I make can impact how strong I will finish.
For example, holding back in the beginning of a marathon, even if I feel great,
changing up my stride and pace when tackling hills, hydrating consistently from
the start on hot/humid days, fueling the right amount and at the right time… My
brain is constantly calculating and monitoring how I feel. All those small
things can add up to crossing that finish line sooner.
Failure is okay
Now I’m going to contradict the whole point of the last
two paragraphs with the next point: being fast isn’t everything. Yes, PRs feel
great. But finishing times are how other people might be impressed with your
performance. I’m much more impressed with myself when I consider what obstacles
I had to overcome to achieve said time (PR or not). I read something recently
that has stuck with me: The possibility of failure is the whole point. In a
marathon, the odds are stacked against us. There are many elements that have to
align for us to run our best over that distance, so more often than not, we
fail to meet our goals. But isn’t that the whole point? Would it really be
worth it if it was easy? I’ve realized that it’s not my finishing times that
define me. It’s pushing through the pain mile after mile. It’s accepting that
failure is okay; giving up is not.
