Training Not So "Smart"

Well, it was bound to happen. People always were telling me to be “smart” with my training. I would then always nod at them knowingly…like I actually knew what they meant. I never gave it much thought before. When you don’t run, you just start moving and hope to God you get to the end of the workout or distance or time allotment in one piece. No watches or Garmin whatevers or fancy heart monitors or GU…just you and your new shoes. So when I started to notice my time and actually care that it was slower than I thought it should be (which is hilarious to me) I started to be “not so smart” in my training.


Last week when I ran the 12 miles…I have no idea what I was thinking. In fact, I wasn’t thinking.

I woke with the usually routine. Up with daybreak…guzzle water…pee. Put on the running clothes…pee. Eat some eggs…pee. Pat the dogs…kiss the kids…hug the husband…pee. And then to be safe…pee again. Now…I’m off…in the car…drive 25 minutes…find a parking space…find a sitting space by the bathroom…listen to the speaker in room full of other runners… pee….listen again…stand in line…pee. And…off again. Down the steps…out the door…fiddle with the IPOD…wonder if I peed enough…start to run.

Dodging lights at the crosswalks through downtown…go go go…no stopping…over the bridge…and down the bike path…ah…this is nice…everyone passing me…wow…even that person (who's gotta be atleast 70 years older than me) can pass me…oh well…I’m fine…I’m doing great, “oh Hey!...yes, a long one today…have a nice run!” I say to them as they go…watch them go… “Why don’t my legs move?” I wonder to myself. “Maybe I’m an ENDURANCE runner…you know…go long impressive distances rather than focusing only on silly speed… well…regardless…I’m doing great.” Going…going…going…ah…first aid station…drink…worry about pee…but must hydrate…must train smart…going again…mile 3.5…look at all of them turn around…they are probably being smart…but I feel great…going going going…going…ah…past the grocery store (maybe I could pee there) now…wow…we are really far from downtown…wonder when the 5 mile point is…going…going…..going…ah, here they come, “hello again…nice day…yes, great run…where is the turn?...oh another mile…great!” Then, I think to myself… “noooo problem…I’m in this for the long haul today” going going going…. “maybe I should just see how it feels to go even farther? Hmmm…but THEY didn’t do it…but I feel great…I’ll go just another mile...or two”…everyone is smiling…going going going going going… “how much longer IS this mile or two anyway” …going going going…holy crap…going going… “OH LOOK! The aid station!” I yell, “is that a mirage?” to another runner on the return…”NOPE,” they yell back…smiling and laughing…I’m so damn funny. I arrive. I gasp, “drive me home…I overcommitted”… “no, no...I’m just kidding…I’m GREAT” (think to myself…I’ll make it back…I’ll live anyway). Gulp water…suck down a packet of GU…gross. Overhear another runner admit she is hurting. Watch her stretch…hear others tell her to remember to train “smart.”

I turn and run…slower. Going…going…going…ah, there they go…the group with the injured runner…she is going and going and going…faster than me…yup…but I’m great! Going…damn it…why is that curb so HIGH? I did not know they made them higher in this part of town...fascinating. UGH. Oh no…are you kidding me? An extension cord…seriously, who has to plug in their car in this kind of weather…and now I have to run over it without tripping…seriously…it’s like…it’s…gasp…it’s the flippin’ Grand Canyon. Oh shit…another curb. Oh, but there’s a light…I should try to make the…oh well…it’s red. I MUST obey traffic laws and stop. Darn it. Wow…that was short…going going going…still going…what was I thinking?  12 miles…ridiculous! My feet are pounding the pavement so hard I think I'm gonna break the concrete.  Stupid German/Welsh/whatever other heritage I am stoutness...my body wasn't made for running...think about something else…must organize the kids clothes…gotta get to Secret Seconds to donate that pile in the hallway…I bet I could waste a good 15 minutes just counting the number of brightly colored plastic items that go blinkity blink beep beep that the kids have absolutely no interest in anymore…nope…only took about 7 minutes…holy crap this is taking forever…is anyone even still out here? Oh crap…that’s great…I’m the LAST one.

Oh…look…is that really there…a PORTA POTTY? SOoooo awesome! Now I know I can make it! Wow…that guy is moving fast…no…no…NO…don’t do it! He did. He went into MY porta potty and you KNOW what he is doing in there. Anyway, I don’t care. I must go to the bathroom no matter what I find in there…I was right. Guys just don’t go to the porta potta to pee when they run that fast. Damn my bladder. Anyway, move on…put it out of you head…I’m nearing the first aid station again. Water…and a break. “Oh, yeah…it’s a great run…yes…I’m enjoying myself…oh, all downhill from here…great! Thanks and Happy Mother’s Day to you! Thank you!”

And I’m going…going…going…going…g o i n g…I’m great…just slowly losing my mind…on mile 11 and approaching hour three…I can make it…I must make it…Hannah’s mile Kim. What the *&%$#? I forgot about the hill at the end…nice bit o’ torture. Great…I’m great…going great. Going going…going up up up up…up…………….up. And…the bridge…finally back downtown…I’m stopping after the bridge. Put a fork in me. I cannot imagine another mile...or curb for that matter.

(this might just look like a slope to you but trust me...its a hill)

After all that you might imagine I was happy with my accomplishment. Well, I was…but getting back to the “smart” part was another story. The next whole week was hell because of my overreach. Let’s just say my body decided to make me painfully aware that I needed to remember I’m a beginner and one mile increases are more than enough. The next few runs I did were tough…and short…and humbling. I went from 12 miles to 2 miles and struggled physically and mentally. I wondered what went wrong and how I would be able to get back. Then just this last Sunday I ran 7 and managed okay. This week is still a struggle but in order to avoid burn out I’m just focusing on running for Hannah. Each run teaches me something and some lessons are harder than others. On a 4 mile run last week I decide I would walk the last mile…oddly enough…I looked over to my right to see the local high school’s baseball/softball field. In the chainlink fencing were the names of the girl’s team spelled out in white tissue paper. The first name I read was “Hannah’s” real name. Her pain is more than mine I thought…and I started to run again.

I’ve decided training “smart” has more to do with keeping your ego, self doubt, and true ability in check…keeping track of time, how much you rest, what you ate, how long you can go when you properly hydrate are all very important…but for me…for now…I just have to remember my running is for her

…and I know I’ll eventually cross the finish line.