TST: New Year, Same Old Training Mistakes

The good news is I am still on track for the Napa Marathon.  I’ve done all my long runs, all my tempo runs, and most my speed work.  I remain injury-free (knocking on wood as I type this).  My runs have been pretty good.  Overall, I’ve maintained a better pace than my training runs last year.  I spent two weeks up in the mountains for Christmas and New Year and stuck to my training at 7000 feet.  On the days I had the kids by myself, I dragged them to the local track, where I did both tempo runs and speed work.  (PS, speed work is the evilest devil ever.  I hate it!  Also, running with the kids at the track leads to many interruptions.)  The temperatures were often below freezing and I wore layers, which added new and fun dimensions to chafing.  On Christmas Eve, I started a 17 mile long run and it was 18 degrees.  I felt good for the first 10 miles.  Then every mile became more tortuous.  Nothing in particular hurt.  It was just an overall discomfort and, if we’re being honest, ennui.  The temperature climbed to 32 degrees, which is still cold, but was enough to make my triple-layers soaked and miserable.  I gave up and called Husband #1 at 14 miles.  I kept running while he loaded the kids in the car and found me a mile later.  Then I felt like a loser for quitting two miles shy of a 17 mile run.  So a couple hours later, I went back out and ran my final two.  In what passed for a suitable punishment, I ran the first of those miles straight up a big hill.  I made up for it with 10 very good miles on New Year’s Eve, right before a big snow storm hit.  Between December 1 and December 22 (the day I went up to the mountains), I had allowed myself exactly one rest day.  I took regular rest days between December 23 and January 3 (when I returned).  And by “rest,” I mean I didn’t run.  I did plenty of sledding, skating, skiing, fort-building, and hiking. 

Suffice it to say, by the time I returned to Phoenix on January 3, I was feeling great – altitude trained, but rested in a way I hadn’t been for weeks.  When I arrived home at 1:00 pm, Phoenix was a balmy 54 degrees and I thought “what better time to do my scheduled 13 mile long run???”  It was a spur-of-the moment decision.  My nutrition hadn’t been great:  a half smoothie, two lattes, and tater tots from Sonic (the midway point of the trip home).  But my altitude training would totally make up for that.  Oh yeah, and I could tell by my scale I was a pound or two dehydrated.  But so what.  I set off running, thinking I would see just how great the altitude training had worked by attempting to PR a half-marathon.  I ran my last official half at a 8:28 average.  So I decided to shoot for an 8:15 average.  Totally doable because, you know, a few rest days and high-altitude training had clearly transformed me into super-woman.  I did my first mile in 7:47 and was hardly winded.  I began mentally composing my victorious blog post.  By mile 7, I realized I was not super woman.  I began to feel very fatigued and my legs suddenly weighed two tons each.  No biggie.  I’d slow down for a couple miles and then pick the pace back up at mile 10 or so.  I watched my average pace slip from 8:07 to 8:15 to 8:22 to 8:29.  I just couldn’t make myself go fast anymore.  My last mile was my slowest:  9:26, bringing my average pace to 8:34.  Now, 8:34 is still a respectable pace, fantastic for me!  At 8:34, I’m still well under a 2 hour half marathon, a barrier I never thought I’d break.  But I’d been so convinced I could slash my pace on too little water and an order of tater tots, I was devastated at my time.  I was almost in tears when I came home.  I was also missing several inches of skin from various chafing areas. 

I stepped on the scale and realized I’d lost another three pounds despite taking a salt pill and drinking 16 oz of water (it is actually the lightest I’ve ever been in my adult life).  Husband #1 was kind enough to go on a Gatorade run while I showered and curled into the fetal position.  Nausea hit hard and came with serious chills.  I simply could not get warm.  I am well-acquainted with nausea after hard runs, so I knew I needed to eat.  I tried a few crackers.  Gross.  Then I made the mistake of going to a Mexican restaurant with the family.  I drank half a beer and tried for the mildest thing on the menu I could find (a salad loaded with guacamole, sour cream, cheese, and beans).  I took a few bites and realized I needed to go lie down in the car because I could no longer even tolerate the smell or sight of food.  Shortly after we got home, all the food I’d managed to get into my stomach came right back up.  As a two-time survivor of horrific morning sickness, I should have known not to eat Mexican food on an iffy stomach.  It is among the worst types of food to come back up (I’ll not detail it here, but if you need recommendations, I can give you a list of my preferred foods to throw up – pregnancy is fun!).  I curled up on the couch under a huge blanket because I was still freezing.  I half slept and half watched the UFC fights while gingerly sipping water.  Toward the end of the evening, I managed to hold down some brown rice with a little soy sauce.  I know, totally your idea of a wild Saturday night, huh?

The bottom line is I screwed up my run.  I didn’t adequately prepare for it, thinking I could just power through.  I had unreasonable expectations and I started WAY too fast.  Experts disagree on what causes post-run nausea.  In my case, I suspect it is closely tied to dehydration because I lose a lot of water and salt when I run.  But whatever causes my post-run nausea, yesterday was the worst it’s ever been . Even today, my stomach is a little queasy (which I did not help by doing a 90 minute boot camp, but, come on, I haven’t boxed in two weeks!).  I will run the PF Chang’s half marathon in 13 days.  I still intend to try to beat last year’s time, but maybe not by 13 seconds per mile.  And I’ll make sure I start and stay properly hydrated.  Most importantly, my race plan will be to start slower and finish faster – the opposite of yesterday’s run.  I’ve learned banking time early just doesn’t work, a lesson I keep forgetting and re-learning.  Despite my best efforts, I may not beat last year’s’ time.  My secondary goal is to finish in less than two hours.  I promise to try and be happy with that.