10k to Go

While my blog postings have been infrequent, they all focus upon the central theme of my marathon training: combining enhanced fitness with increased distance. After completing my Half-Ironman in September, I found that what I began to consider normal training was no longer challenging and adequate. There are two reasons for this: (1) Coach Dave trained me for a specific level of performance, knowing that in the future I would be able to attack the pre-race preparation with more intensity, and (2) My brain no longer was afraid to push the envelope (i.e. fearing physical failure or injury). The final long run of my marathon training last Sunday took me to a new echelon where I again began to reconsider what I am capable of accomplishing.

Sunday’s plan was simple: 20 miles.

If I take a mental inventory, during my Blue Lake Sprint Triathlon training in May, I never undertook a bike ride of such distance, let alone run. The training schedule called for numerous 20+ miles jaunts, but bluntly, I was afraid that I could not ride that far. Fast forward 7 months.

In the preceding weeks, Rachel (my training partner) and I had increased our distance steadily from 12 to 18 miles. While the new distances brought some self doubt and pain, I relished in the fact that each week I entered 2 miles of uncharted territory…the last 2 miles that were tacked on from the previous week’s routine. During my tempo work with various teammates, it seemed to be the consensus that the real suffering in a marathon began at mile 20. Up until Sunday, I had not experienced physical suffering due to distance or conditions.

The weather report was not appealing: 39 degrees with a howling North wind along the Willamette River made the jaunt from under the Fremont Bridge to Oaks Park via the East Bank Esplanade taxing. The Chinese Water Torture rain began to grate upon me at the 4.5 mile mark, and I had to choice to either take my already-sopping-gear and borderline tantrum attitude home or push through it. I chose the latter and ran the lonely Esplanade hoping that my muscles would eventually warm up and allow my stride to elongate. The first 10 miles was at a leisurely 8 minute pace with my heart rate firmly in Z2, but my perceived effort was more like Z3 when accounting for the wind, temperature, and rain. After making the turn around near the Pearl District, I felt a burst of mental clarity, and the rain was no longer an issue. Even though the conditions were deteriorating by the quarter-hour, I regained feeling in my extremities and shifted me perceived effort to what I believed was Z4.

After passing OMSI, I went against what my body was telling me and began to negative split the last 3 miles into the low 7 minute pace. During this last push, the suffering crept in. While none of the sensations debilitating, the aches and pains were amplified to a level I had not felt before. As I crossed the 20 mile barrier, the final 10K became the only uncharted territory left. I guess I can think about that while I taper.