With only six weeks left to go until the NYC Marathon, last
week was time to step it into gear—more mileage, and a long run of 18 miles.
I was much more nervous than expected going into the
18-miler. In every other long run I had done (training for the Boston Marathon,
the Marathon itself, and a 16-miler last month), I bonked out at Mile 14. I’d
hit a wall where I just felt like there was nothing in the tank, and my legs
would stop turning over quickly. I could get through the remaining miles
through a combination of running, walking, and sheer determination, but it
never felt good. Since I planned to do my 18 with one of my best friends biking
for 14 and running the last four, I was rather embarrassed that she might see
me struggling through the bonk.
I was in New England for the weekend for the Jewish holiday,
and we chose a route around the Mystic lakes: a 7 mile loop that we would do
twice, with Shannon joining for the first loop, then a 4 mile loop where
Natalia would get off the bike and run with me. It started off perfectly—the
weather was slightly cool, and I was so busy catching up with my friends that I
barely noticed the first 5 miles go by.
We missed a turn that caused the loop to go from 7 miles to 5.4, but I
knew I could easily make it up.
After we said goodbye to Shannon, we continued on for what
felt like an hour. I checked the mileage, and we were only at 8.2. Not even
halfway there. Ugh.
But then a funny thing happened. To correct the prior
mistake, we started running down side streets…we’d go out half a mile or a
mile, then come back. 8 became 9, 9 became 11, 11 became 13, and our pace was
still sub-11 minute miles…then up Mystic Valley Parkway to the parking lot
where Natalia would stash her bike, and we were at 14.5. Two out of three
phases complete.
Natalia and I set out toward Bacon Street, and another funny
thing happened: I felt okay. My quads felt a little worn, and I wasn’t going
fast, but I felt like I had some fuel in the tank and was still doing sub 11
miles. We rounded a cemetery, went
through some side streets, then took a right back on Mystic Valley Parkway. As neared
the end, Natalia started to sprint. And without thinking about it, I did
too. I am not sure if I was
running off real energy or adrenaline, but it was a runner’s high better than
any I had ever felt before.
I am not sure if my strength came from just having a good
day, if years of training have just made me stronger, or if I finally figured
out my nutritional issues. But I know that a large part of why I ran so well is
that I was just having so much fun with Natalia and Shannon.
I have always thought of myself as a beginning runner. I
took up running late in life, when I started a stressful law firm job and
wanted an excuse to be outside more. Even after I ran my first marathon, I felt
that running was a hobby I had only recently gotten into. But with the 5th
anniversary of my first road race having occurred a few months ago, I recently
realized, running is not a new hobby for me but a lifestyle. I love to always
be training for something, to plan all my meals around fueling for a long
weekend run, to get up on a Saturday morning and spend most of the day running
or biking, and to be too tired to do anything else because I got up early for
the activity.
A huge part of truly feeling like a runner is having become
friends with an amazing group of women for whom endurance sports are a
lifestyle. These women, who I met
through a now-defunct company called Boston Performance Coaching, made training
not just something I did for an hour ever day, but the purpose of my days. Even after having left Boston for New
York, the women I met through BPC continue to offer me training advice and
support (in both athletics and life) on a daily basis. Though many, including myself,
have mixed emotions about the company itself, I will forever be grateful to the
group for introducing me to these incredible women, who have helped me achieve
things I never thought possible.
And also, they are responsible for me eating a lot of recovery
bacon.
