15 Miles-a-Week To 26.2 In A Day: Got A Plan?

A reader of the blog post about "smart" mileage increases over time ("Your Ego Is Not Your Amigo"), was kind enough to send me a question last week:

"I have a question regarding your 10-percent increase every three weeks. How would this work if I were training for a marathon? Would I have to do a 20-mile run five times a week? I'm sure that can't be good for your legs. Do you have another training schedule that you recommend for marathons? Like your friend in the article I have also had IT band problems, which I believe was due to increasing my mileage too fast when training for my second marathon. Thanks for any help you can offer."

Most well-laid-out marathon training plans have the longest (easy pace) run of the schedule in the 16-to-20 mile range, or no more than two and-a-half hours in duration. Naturally, runners will go longer than that on race day, but those longer runs occur two or three times during the latter weeks of the training schedule.

I've shamelessly borrowed from a couple of good marathon training plans over the past five or six years:

The first one/s I've recommended were developed by Keith and Kevin Hanson, who coach the Brooks-Hanson's Distance Project. Their beginner and advanced marathon plans are not a far cry from the ones they used to train (2008 Olympian) marathoners Brian Sell and (2011 Boston Marathon womens' runner-up) Desiree Davila. The Hanson's focus is on "something of substance" training; there is no focus on one single day's workout over another during the training week. Keith Hanson has explained the (relatively) low-mileage long run feels longer because of accumulated fatigue during the rest of the training week.

Links to the beginners' and advanced marathon plans can be found at the Hanson's Running web site (http://www.hansons-running.com).

Not everyone who participates in a marathon has a particular finishing time goal...but the majority of runners who do train for a marathon have an idea how they'd like to finish. Most of them, at least the ones willing to admit, would love to run well enough to qualify for Boston. The biggest problem comes when we talk about pace discipline: One of my marathoners wanted to run a 4:00 to qualify for Boston, and probably is strong enough to run a 3:40. In her first attempt at the marathon this last November, she passed me at mile 12 (I was running the half) and went through the half-marathon mark in 1:35-1:40. I didn't want to believe she'd have a bad day, but (being the pessimist I am) I knew it was coming. After finishing my half, I went to the half-mile to go point on the course. My watch ticked off 3:55...no Deena. 3:57...no Deena. 4:00...no Deena.

Finally, she rolled by, cramping legs and all, at 4:03. She finished her first marathon in 4:07, having fought leg cramps from mile 16 onward. I told her, after congratulating her on her age-group win, that we would focus on pacing strategy for Rock n' Roll/Mardi Gras, her next marathon.

The Marathon Nation (http://www.marathonnation.us) training plans, developed by coach Pat McCrann, are based off Jack Daniels' VDOT tables. Plans are boiled down to the essentials; there's no fluff in a MN plan, which is great for time-stressed runners.

Most importantly, McCrann has a very effective approach to race day pacing. He breaks the half or full marathon into approximately 25-percent chunks; the first 25 percent of the race is run about five seconds per mile slower than goal pace. The middle fifty percent increases in pace to a point where the runner averages about five seconds per mile ahead of goal pace, and the last 25 percent is where the runner makes the tactical decision of whether to maintain (should they feel all right, or not so good) or increase the pace (should they feel very good).

I used a blend of my own speedwork, the MN speedwork and the Hanson's distance focus when training Deena. When it came to race day, I sat down with her and broke down the pace she needed to run; a particular time at 10K, a particular time for the half-marathon, another goal split for 30K...after that it was up to her whether she wanted to push the pace or hang on. She ended up hitting the splits almost exactly as I asked, ran a 25-minute personal best and qualified for Boston.

I asked her how she felt on the first 10K, to which she said, "all these people were blowing by me like I was standing still." And the last 10K? "Gosh, Coach, I was passing people left and right."

The right training plan for a distance event will get you to the starting line healthy and ready to run. The right pacing plan for that distance will get you to the finish line...ideally healthy and ready for your next run.

No Shortcuts For You! Or Me, For That Matter...

I had the opportunity to meet some young professional runners and their coach about five years ago. They came to run the USATF 10K road race championships in Mobile and took the opportunity to do a meet and greet at our friendly neighborhood running emporium. There was a shy, dark-haired young woman sitting with the rest of her training group; she quietly answered a few questions during the discussion, but really did not seem to stand out in the crowd. Five years later, she finishes second at the Boston Marathon and runs the best time by an American woman on the Boston course (2:22:38).

Desiree Davila. 'Who'dathunkit?' I bet not even your coaches, Keith and Kevin Hanson, 'woulda.'

I love what she had to say about her progress from "average" runner to finishing second at one of the most prestigious road races in the world (The two most common questions non-runners ask of runners: Have you run a marathon? Have you run Boston?). "Everything has been one step at a time, you don't have to be great tomorrow..." Besides patient progress, Davila benefited from financial support, group training and the training methods of the brothers Hanson.

There are no shortcuts. There are no "silver bullets," "magic potions," or "miracle devices;" no "make you healthier and faster in 90 days or your money back" zippy mind tricks to being a good - or a great - runner. There are no fallbacks, no substitutions.

There is no bar or beverage at the local sports nutrition store which can replace adequate rest and recovery. There is no shoe at the local running emporium which can make up for a runner's refusal to learn good running form and proper cadence. There is no book on-line or on the shelves of the local bookstore which can provide the advice and counsel of a coach. There is no training plan in existence which can safely take us from running 20 minutes a day, three times a week to running a marathon in 16 weeks. None of these things happen without slow, patient progress. We have to crawl before we can walk, walk before we can jog, and jog before we can run.

Mental toughness and physiological change takes time and patience, which is not the stuff we can pay our way through with money, no matter what people who write training books - and coaching blogs, for that matter - have to say.

Tomorrow Ain't As Bad As It Seems

"...the good old days weren't always good, and tomorrow ain't as bad as it seems." -- Billy Joel, "Keeping The Faith" (1983)

So, I was running along the perimeter of the local airport with one of my athletes and my wife the other day (we passed my wife about five minutes earlier, but that's par for the course). As always, conversations of substance begin once runners get past that "oh, God, this kind of bites" feeling (usually during the first mile or so) and into the rhythm of the run.

The morning topic happened to touch upon age, aging, and most specifically, aging up into a new running age bracket. Deena, my "poster child" athlete of the moment, feels compelled to take her newly-found running strength and go "dominate the dojo." While she's not the best in her age bracket, she's become very good and will probably put a scare into the one or two gals who are better than she. Deena says she wants to see whether she can run better times at some 10K races she ran in the past, before she doesn't have the speed at her disposal. Of course, she feels concerned because she thinks she won't improve or maintain her fitness over the next couple of years.

Naturally, my job as her coach is to make sure she stays healthy in order to meet the big running milestones of her life, which right now means next year's Boston Marathon. I'm not used to thinking about training plans in time frames of longer than six months; most of my athletes to this point (in my experience as coach) haven't elaborated as specifically on their goal events as this recent crop.

Aging is an inevitable outcome. When you consider the thoroughly unsavory alternative to aging, it does seem fairly acceptable. Some people, like my wife, approach it with no small amount of grace and humor. Other persons, like me, vary in degrees of kicking and screaming, especially when we observe the ways (running the gamut from hair dye to needless surgical procedures) our fellow humans try to ignore or turn back the clock.

One of my dear friends, Ruben, has a high running pedigree; a contemporary of Frank Shorter, Jack Bacheler, Jeff Galloway, Benji Durden, Jerry Slaven, Barry Brown, et. al., during the glory days of the Florida Track Club three decades ago. Hang out with him after a road race, even when you've had a bad day, and there's no doubt you will feel much better about yourself, even before the first beer is drained. Ruben always has a kind word about every participant's performance, and seems to know exactly where the silver lining hides within the darkest of clouds. When a guy has genuinely endured what John L. Parker Jr. called "the trial of miles," raced at national championships and Olympic Trials, I guess everything else could be considered a bit of a letdown. If there's a man who has the right to play the self-pitying "I used to run this distance in..." card, it's Ruben. He's more likely to tell you a story about holding hands with a fellow runner because neither guy wanted to let the other lose. I used to think Coach Slaven was kidding when he would tell those tales after our morning runs. After meeting Ruben I knew they were all true.

Sometimes the hardest part of moving forward is knowing what to do with the past. Perhaps the best thing to do is the running equivalent of Baz Luhrman's advice in "Everybody's Free To Wear Sunscreen:" Keep your old love letters. Throw out your old bank statements.

It's the feelings, more than the numbers, that matter when it comes to running...especially as we become more seasoned.

A "Whys" Man Once Told Me...

One of my athletes ran her first marathon this past weekend. She had a fantastic front half of the race, but ran into some trouble (muscle cramps) during the second half & missed her goal to qualify for Boston by seven minutes. We were both disappointed for her, but we knew a qualifying performance was in her future once we got past a few obstacles.

Most coaches talk easily about the physical aftermath of runs & races. They usually are quick to recommend what to do to rebuild the body's systems, replenish fuel stores & recover strength after their charge has crossed the finish line. A precious few will approach the mental or systemic areas with their athletes; the ones who do often work in a mature two-way relationship with an experienced athlete.

When it comes to races of long distance, the smart athlete should look at not only one potential area for improvement, but as many as six large areas. (Noted triathlon coach Brett Sutton tells his athletes to boil down a problem until only three major issues remain.) There might be more, but I usually look at a performance issue as one of six types of deficits:

Three of these deficit areas - feedback & expectations, processes & environment, and incentives & consequences - are (mostly) external to the athlete and are, in many cases, a simpler fix.

The other three areas - motives & preferences, ability, and skill & knowledge - are almost completely internal to the athlete.

Most coaches of adult, post-scholastic amateur runners don't have to worry much about the internal deficits; if a coach gets to those root causes it's much like the old light bulb joke:

Q. How many psychologists does it take to change a light bulb?

A. One. But the light bulb has to really want to change.So, I tell folks to take time within the first hours after the race, usually when they have time to quietly think about things. I ask them to write down what went well and what could have been improved in the race performance. Once those problem areas are identified, then it's time to do what is known in Performance Improvement circles as the "five whys." Here's an example:

Problem: I finished my half-marathon 15 minutes later than I hoped.

Why (#1:) did you finish your half-marathon 15 minutes later than you hoped?

I had to walk much of the last two miles.

Why (#2:) did you have to walk much of the last two miles?

Because my right achilles' tendon swelled up.

Why (#3:) did your right achilles' tendon swell up?

Because the course conditions, specifically the hills & concrete pavement, strained my achilles.

Why (#4:) did the course conditions strain your achilles?

Because I didn't allow my achilles' enough time to heal from the last injury.

Why (#5:) didn't you allow your achilles enough time to heal?

Because I thought I could get fit in time for this event.

Why (#6:) did you feel the need to rush getting fit for this event?

Because I was using it to prepare for a spring marathon.

Once a performance issue can be boiled down to the simplest reasons (usually at the third or fourth "why,"), you can look at the root causes & figure if they are external or internal. So, if I take the "whys" & align them to the causes - I've placed a question you can ask yourself to consider where the answer or deficit falls - I can then start to think of potential solutions.

Feedback & Expectations:
Did I know what was expected of me? Could I tell how well I was doing?

Processes & Environment:
Did I have the conditions and tools to do what was expected of me?
1. Hilly conditions and concrete roadways aggravated achilles condition.

Incentives & Consequences:
Did I stand to gain anything by succeeding - or by failing - at this activity?

Motives & Preferences:
Did I decide to do this activity for the right reason/s?
1. Attempted fall half-marathon rather than early year half, then spring marathon.
2. Unwilling to back off training because of injury.

Ability:
Did I have a chance to succeed, even if all the factors were in my favor?

Skills:
Did I know how to do the activity?

"It is tempting, if the only tool you have is a hammer, to treat everything as if it were a nail." - Abraham Maslow, The Psychology of Science (1966)

So, then I can look at the big root causes & say, "okay, here's what I think you need to do." The one thing you don't want to do is start thinking of the solution before you get to the genuine root cause. More often than not when a person - coach or athlete - does this sort of exercise they look at the issue in light of their preferred answer. For example, a friend of mine loves Pilates, so everything in his mind can be remedied with a modicum of Pilates training. If I were to present an issue to my friend, the gym proprietor, he would likely recommend training his gym provides.

Because the achilles' tendon issue is aggravated by hard surfaces, hills & hard training, I can recommend easy running on softer surfaces as much as possible, minimize hard speed work on the track, minimize or discontinue hill repeats, recommend adding heel lifts to shoes, & work on strengthening the achilles with some stretching & light resistance training. . .and to be patient. There's some unfinished business to be taken care of in New Orleans next February.

Help Wanted

MB comment: A little something written for my friends in New Orleans. The Times-Picayune (www.nola.com) has a running section in the on-line version of the paper...blogs and all...have to love a city that loves running. Happy Chanukkah and Happy Christmas to you, also. See you guys soon.
Six times a year I receive phone calls from race directors. While they may not know it, the call’s an advertisement that sounds like:
“HELP WANTED – Fearless, anal-retentive, detail-oriented person/s to ensure running course accuracy. Skilled in problem-solving, math calculation, line-drawing, detail elaboration. Bike-handling skills & lack of fear a must. Track, cross-country or road running experience highly recommended. Must own bicycle, CPSC-certified helmet, & RRTC-approved measuring device – no GPS users! Must memorize simple mathematical calculations, exact metric & English course distances. Know capabilities & limitations of GPS/alternative measuring systems. Can communicate USA Track & Field definition of ‘accurate course’ to general public. Skin thickness, selective hearing, & love-of-travel, able to adapt courses at whim of race directors/police necessary. Compensation varies by difficulty of job, prior experience of applicant. Hours: Flexible; highly-dependent on auto traffic. Resume to (850) 867 5309.”
In Florida, there are over 30 of us listed with USA Track & Field (USATF) as course measurers. Some have been measuring courses for decades, others for a handful of years. We do it because we love the sport of running; we understand the need for accurate courses, & in many cases, because very few others will do the job.
When I tell people I am a runner I receive two questions immediately afterward: ‘Have you done a marathon? Have you done Boston?’ To do Boston, you have to qualify on a certified, accurate course. USATF, the national governing body for the sport of running, defines an accurate course as one that is NOT SHORT. It’s important to know the course you run on is not short; you need to know how well your training is progressing. You want to compare your race performance to others in your age group, another town, or around the country…even year-to-year in your town. If you think of a race director like the manager of a Subway shop, you want to make certain the five-dollar foot-long you paid five dollars for is really 12 inches in length. Any smaller would upset you, & you would go some place else to eat lunch. So, the race director wants you to come to their race rather than somewhere else. One good way to ensure this is by having a USATF-certified course.

Just because you get a USATF course measurer to measure your course doesn’t mean it’s certified by USATF. But having a USATF course measurer measure the course will ensure the job is done properly. The measurer does this by use of several tools and a simple protocol.
The first tool is a bicycle with a counter mounted to the front wheel hub, which provides a fixed count for each turn of the front wheel. The earliest model of counter is accurate to within three inches, more accurate than the GPS receivers used by fitness enthusiasts. The measurer does a series of calibration rides to determine the number of counts (turns of the wheel) per miles/kilometers. These rides are performed on a calibration course, measured out using spring tension & steel surveyor’s tape; most measurers have one or more calibration courses in their area.
Once the count (wheel revolutions) per mile/kilometer is determined, the measurer adds a 1/1000 factor to the count to help prevent a course from being shorter than the actual distance. So, a ten-kilometer (6.213172 miles exactly) run, such as the Crescent City Classic, is actually closer to 6.219925712 miles in distance.
The measurer, once on the course, begins to act like a runner. They ride the shortest possible distance from start to finish; riding 12-inch tangents on curved sections of the course. If runners are going to be restricted from part of the road, these are noted. Distance splits are made at multiples of each count per mile/kilometer, marked (temporarily) & noted relative to fixed points. The counts at the finish are also noted. During a second ride of the course, the count from start to split points & finish are noted again.
The total counts between the first & second rides are divided to ensure the difference between the two rides is no more than .08 percent (26 feet, 4 inches for a 10-kilometer race). Once the course rides are complete, the measurer returns to the calibration course to repeat the calibration done before the measurement rides. The calibration rides before & after the measurement are compared, with the smaller count used to measure course length. The smaller count per mile/kilometer is used to compare the shortest course measurement to the desired distance. If the course distance varies from the desired distance, the measurer adds or subtracts distance – if necessary – to make the course distance accurate.
The measurer then draws up the map, showing detailed location of start, turn points, and finish. Each of the distance splits are noted, as well as places where runners are restricted by cones or barriers. This map, the calibration form, the measurement form, & an application for course certification is sent to the USATF state course certifier, along with a check (in FL, it’s $30). The certifier reviews the paperwork, certifies the measurement met USATF protocols (sometimes after asking for more data), then prepares the certificate. The certificate number & map is placed in the USATF course database, where it can be found by the general public. The race director is asked to place the certificate number on all documents related to their event, both before & after the event. Course distances are valid for ten years from the date of certification, after which the course needs to be measured again & submitted to the certifier.
So, racing on accurate certified courses benefits the individual athlete because they can truly compare their performance to other days or other persons. Accurate certified courses benefit the race director because it’s another proof to market to potential customers of their event’s quality. In fact, USATF and Road Runners Club of America championship races are required to be held on certified courses. So, think twice before you take that GPS receiver-wearing runner’s opinion of the course measurement as gospel – look it up on the USATF web site. If it isn’t there, it isn’t accurate.

Taking A Pulse

Every once in a blue moon I try to take the pulse of the folks who have trained with me at the track at one time or another over the past couple of years (and sometimes longer). I've asked for e-mail feedback, put my phone number out there, and pretty much maintained as close to an open door policy as can be expected. This time, I figured a survey would put numbers out there, or at least provide a degree of anonymity to the folks who felt the need to say something constructive without fear of retribution.

Lessons learned:

1. Anonymity does not guarantee response constructivity. Some enjoy the opportunity to take pot-shots behind the cloak of anonymity. Even if you made changes/improvements it wouldn't change their opinion of you, and they probably wouldn't come back to train.
2. Rick Nelson was (and still is) right. Those of you who are old enough to remember Rick's last hit (in his long hair stage!), Garden Party, know the tag line: 'You can't please everyone, so you've got to please yourself.' Not every coach is a good fit for an athlete. Not every training program is going to work for every athlete. Read a Carmichael Training Systems press release, and they talk about training 5-time IM champion Peter Reid. However, when interviewed by Bob Babbitt and Paul Huddle, after retiring from active competition, Reid mentioned he and CTS were (ultimately) not a good fit. So, you have to figure it out for yourself whether the training plan or the coaching is a fit. If it's not, then move on and chalk it up to a mismatch.

3. Sometimes you might be an influence, but not the influence. Several athletes I coached intermittently (because of outside constraints) have credited me (to my face!) with their recent personal successes (e.g., qualifying for and completing the Boston Marathon, completing one/more Ironman/70.3 triathlons). When they tell me, I am honored and humbled; those moments make the efforts worthwhile. However, I tell all in earshot it was their own hard work making success possible. To paraphrase Paul of Tarsus, when citing successes in his church work in Asia Minor: '...I planted...Apollos watered...God gives the increase.'

One respondent asked (as far as I can tell) how I keep track of athletes with highly divergent ability levels. I try to track where everyone is in their training without micro-managing. I ask for individual goals and goal races every six months or so, but I am past the point of worrying about a lack of administrative detail (e.g., no six-month goal, no goal race, and so on). The athlete who wants to communicate their goals to me, does. Otherwise, it's safest for me to presume their racing schedule is constrained by the local calendar, which means they'll be doing a lot of 5,000-meter, relatively flat road races.
One good reason I don't go micromanaging a particular training plan (unless its my own) is because I've offered to help draw up a plan, including work outside of the track. Lots of folks, especially recreational runners, don't want to commit 9-11 hours of their life each week to running. They like listening to music on the beach on Tuesday nights, going to the downtown concert on Thursday nights, sleeping in on Saturday and Sunday mornings.
And I understand that. I don't want to do it, but I understand it. I try very hard not to consider those persons who choose to have lives outside of running as children of a lesser god. It's possible I will have a life outside of running; for now I choose to live it vicariously through them. And, by golly, they need to do a better job of it (just kidding!).
If Ethan Barron, the XC/track coach at Tufts, were sitting with me over coffee, I think he would remind me, 'respect yourself, then do your best. Acceptance by others should never outweigh those two things.'

Single Is Free Verse, Married Are Sonnets, Animals Are Tech Manuals

Suzanne's in Boston this week, taking care of more business at VON 2008. While I hate the thought of being alone in the house, every so often it's kind of nice to not have to worry about whether we have everything we need to go out for a long run, track practice or race.

Before she or any of you think I don't love my wife, please understand what I mean by this. I only have to make certain I have one water bottle, one towel, one spare shirt, etc. When the workout is over, I can leave or stick around as long as I want. No need to close a conversation in order to get back to the car/house and clean up a little before a bite and a beer. While being single truly sucks bilge, it's a simple, one-hose form of suck. Being married has it's share of suck, too, but (in the words of Jimmy Red Dust, one of Jimmy Buffett's characters from A Salty Piece of Land) it 'sucks less.' It's a more complicated form of suck; a multifaceted, multidirectional, multi-flow version that varies in quality over time. When you're young it's emotional, when you're middle-aged it's physical, when you're older you toddle away from the hoses and say 'to heck with it.'

My wife has taken on the role of primary caregiver to our five-and-a-half year-old greyhound. So when she goes on the road, whatever temporary respite I might have received from the multi/multi/multi suck goes right out the window. I feel so guilty leaving him home during the workday (he usually serves as security for my wife's office) I do my afternoon running near the house and come immediately home to keep him company. He still wants/needs attention, food, biscuits, walks, and to be let outside (especially while I have my dinner in hand!), above and beyond the amount Suzanne normally gives him.

Rubin's not one to buy the 'oh, Dad's going out for an easy six-miler, after which he'll take you for a walk around the park' line. He knows:

1) Dad's NEVER gone out for an easy six-miler.

2) When Dad comes back, all he'll want to do is rest on the couch, watch television/movies and sip on one or more beers.

So...he'll stand in front of the front door and stare into the wood in the hope of boring a 'hound-sized hole through it with his doe eyes. And it doesn't matter whether you already took him on a three-lap jaunt around the park (well, two laps would make him sleep all day!); he wants more. Doesn't matter, just more. I have not figured out more what, either. In spite of my best efforts to try and understand the d-a-w-g (and his best efforts to communicate with me without pawing my leg off), we're as uncertain as we were the last time I looked at a technical manual, like the ones written in the Far East for those pre-fabricated office furnishings.

So, dear, if you read this. . . your dog is fine. I am surviving, thanks to Wolfgang Puck and Anheuser-Busch. And we both look forward to you coming home. P.S. Don't mind the remains of the wing delivery guy you'll find in the driveway. He mistook our address for someone who ordered from his shop. The dog decided to eat him. . . Okay, so I let him. It was 11:30 p.m., and nobody should beat on our door at that hour.