Marathon Training: Running's "Rubik's Cube"

The marathon is the "Rubik's Cube" of running.  You can pull one right out of the container that's in perfect condition, and no sooner than you start to screw around with it you end up making things a mess.  One that's almost impossible to return back to the original state.  A runner who takes up the idea of doing a marathon without at least four years of (preferably injury-free!) training and racing of distances up to the half-marathon is asking to twist the bejeezus out of a brand-new Rubik's Cube.

The hardest part is not doing the training that's necessary to prepare for that day of 26.21876 miles, it's doing the training without becoming injured.  Most of the published marathon training plans have long runs of up to 22 miles.  Some longer.  And most written for a general population.  Look at a plan written by coaches in areas where the metric system reigns supreme and you'll find the longest run is 30 kilometers (18.641136 miles).  When laid up against the 50-mile or 80-kilometer week, that single long run will take up half of the training mileage (and possibly more than half of the time) spent training.  I'm more of a fan of spreading the mileage (50-to-60 miles) out throughout the week, with the longest run of the week around 16 miles, or 26 kilometers, a distance which can be covered by most trained runners in 2.5 hours or less.

Even then, there are runners who don't have large chunks of time to spare in their life.  They can manage to squirrel away 8-to-10 hours during the early morning or later evening.  Some ask if it's better to get the week's mileage in large chunks, say a long run of 12-to-16 miles on the weekend, and runs of 8-to-10 miles during the rest of the week.  While there are some physiological benefits to pushing a 60-to-90 minute run one additional day of the week, the risk of injury increases as the runner goes out for longer duration sessions...especially as you approach that 2.5-hour mark.  Add to that the amount of time it takes to recover either at home or at work and running "singles" may be a more-hazardous endeavor than first thought. 

And what happens if there's a family visitor or a social function going on that cuts into that (for example) 90-minute planned run on the schedule?  My take is that a shorter run of good quality is better than cutting short that planned longer effort and feeling guilty about the whole thing.  I like splitting runs, both between morning and evening, and between evening and the following morning.  Sure, you're decreasing the amount of time the body has for recovery, often by as much as one-half, but you're also decreasing the amount of time you're out on the run.  And if something comes up on the social schedule it's not a complete disaster. 

When it comes to the "long run" on the training schedule, not only do I split the run between Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning, I borrow a race execution strategy from a fellow coach, Patrick McCrann.  I have the athlete run the Saturday "half" of the long run at the pace they'll run for the first six miles of the marathon.  Then, on Sunday morning, I have them run the assigned distance, half at the pace we planned for the middle third of the marathon, half at the goal pace for the final ten kilometers of the race.  It's more difficult for the athlete to execute the paces because they've done so much quality work from the previous Tuesday afternoon forward they're pushing five or six miles on legs that have accumulated fatigue...no different than the feeling they'll have on race day.  But, they also won't be running as much during the last weeks leading into the race.

During the week, at least on the days when I haven't scheduled a particular intensity, I'm only concerned about the day's duration, which can range anywhere from 45 to 60 minutes.  Anything beyond that is gravy.  And it's important to recover and rest during those times in between runs; if lawn mowing or an extended house maintenance session is planned during the day it's probably better to get the run out of the way early in the day.

There may be a need for doing one or two runs of two hours during marathon training, but the fatigue accumulated through several days of quality work during the week can mitigate the need for a whole lot of them.  There's a solution to the "Rubik's Cube" that is the marathon, the challenge is figuring out what jumbled it all in the first place.

Validate Yourself

'I am extraordinary, if you'd ever get to know me; I am extraordinary, I'm just your ordinary, average, everyday, sane, psycho...' - "Extraordinary," Liz Phair (2003)

"I'm starting to really enjoy life," said the young woman. "Last week was the first time I walked out of the gym while it was still daylight. I walked my dogs twice."

I sat listening to the conversation while nibbling on a pulled pork sandwich and swatting at a dozen gnats. The three of us had just finished working a sprint triathlon, the official debrief was completed. For me, it was a time to sit back and quietly learn more about officiating, especially about personal interaction with other officials and athletes once the race is through.

The young woman, in her real life, works as a personal trainer. Even the most emotionally-ignorant person like me can tell she has that intense 'take no bull' kind of attitude. Type A, all the way. She recently stepped back from a managerial position which kept her off the workout floor and away from the things she seems to enjoy the most about a career in the fitness profession.

My friend and mentor, Jay, definitely knows the lay of the terrain. He has, over the course of many years, moved up the food chain, from working as a personal trainer, to operating a small exercise and fitness center, to running the athletic and fitness program for the base where I work. Not surprisingly, he described in brief the factorial increases which come along with grasping each succeding rung up the corporate ladder: responsibility, accountability, boring meetings, and - regrettably - time spent doing things you would prefer to have done by someone else.

"But as you get older, there is the need to learn management. You can't stay in a career for 20 years, into your mid-40s, and still be out on the floor showing guys how to lift a weight a certain way."

He continued, "On the other side of the coin, you bring in young folks to begin their career and they really don't know everything there is to know about working with people one-to-one. They might have taken the class or read the book, and passed the test, but they haven't proven themselves yet. I tend to push them toward doing endurance events, such as long-distance triathlons, marathons, stuff like that, as a method of validating themselves to their clients."

I thought a great deal about Jay's validation comment as I drove home. As a coach my methods are validated by not only by the athletes I coach but also by myself. I have a piece written by Ethan Barron, a college track and cross-country head coach, tacked up above my desk. He talks not only about the need for a coach to be a reliable role model with regards to dedication, loyalty, work ethic and healthy lifestyle choices, but also about striving for ones' best as a definition of success.

How many times have you heard family members talk about you? The last time Suzanne and I visited my family, my sister joked, "...someone please remind the runners to get back on time so we're not late for..." There would be no financial hardship in my house if I had a dollar for every time I had a relative say, "...you make me feel like I should go out and do..." It validates, to a degree, the success of what we do in our lives. We aren't perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but we're somewhere on the path.

Some folks, on the other hand, like to have a little more concrete evidence to validate why they run. I guess that's why people run races. It can't be necessarily because we have a love for technical fiber shirts, or we want to justify drinking a beer at 9:00 in the morning. And the hard numbers, the black and white on that results sheet can tell us how well we did - both in training and in performance - compared to our fellow runners and the varying sample population from the rest of the world who decided to show up that day. Training can also be validated by other numbers: They can be the physiological markers which are positively affected by our lifestyle. They can be the increase or decrease in measure of distance, of time, bodily habitus, and of consistency. There's nothing like the sight of a calendar with filled spaces.

So, maybe we run to prove ourselves. Maybe we run to prove to ourselves. And there are probably times we run in spite of ourselves. But most of all I believe we do it to validate ourselves.

One Big, Honking...Sometimes Dysfunctional...Family

"Ev'ryone can see we're together as we walk on by. And we fly just like birds of a feather, I won't tell no lie. All of the people around us; they say, 'can they be that close?' Just let me state for the record, we're giving love in a family dose..." - We Are Family (Rodgers/Edwards)

So, there I was, sitting in a pizza joint, participating in a running club management meeting last night. Since this was the first meeting of the year, it was time for something which resembled an election of officers. This particular club has grown to probably around a hundred members in the past two years, but it was hard to tell that by the turnout for this meeting.

Once the pizzas and beer had been served, the general manager of the group began the business portion of the meeting. The first question of the evening was whether there were enough club members or management to constitute a quorum. I gently commented after counting heads, 'well, we do have a minyan, there are ten of us here...'

We marched quietly through the process of appointing club management for the following year, in a very congenial manner. There were several necessary roles for which several of the attendees were a good fit, and a couple of others which, while absolutely necessary for the ongoing good of the group, we felt would take a cooperative effort from one or two persons to remain successful.

With the management roles having been apportioned, the general manager finished his beer, reckoned his check with the waitress, and quietly walked out of the meeting. After having divested himself of the lion's share of what what Discovery Channel's Mike Rowe would consider running's Dirty Jobs, he looked a heck of a lot more comfortable at the end of the meeting than at the beginning. However, the assembled group at the table realized this situation was closer to that of a parent passing along the honey-do list of chores to the offspring of the family than to an election of officers for a non-profit organization.

Now, all we have to do is find a way to tell the "kids."

This morning I started to think about the simple truth: Runners are one big, honking, sometimes dysfunctional family. Once you get past the small stuff - politics, jobs, education, economics - there's an astounding similarity across the board. It's all the same whether I'm in Saskatchewan or Florida, in Boston or San Diego; running 5K in a swamp or a marathon on the roads. It's the act of putting one foot in front of the other.

Repeatedly.

Preferably in a rapid fashion.

Sure, there are groups which members are insular in nature, who consider the group which looks a whole hell of a lot like theirs but meets across town to be a bunch of heathens. But, like Jew and Samaritan, it's not the place which the activity is performed that makes it important, it's going out and doing it. It's the pursuit of physical fitness, burning off the excesses or the stresses of the day which matters. It's the reminder that chronological age is sometimes a number, and the reminder there are more important numbers to focus upon than the difference between today's date and our birthdate.

Each family has it's share of "crazy uncles" we tolerate in very small doses once or twice a year, as well as prodigies for whom we cannot help but marvel at their talent. The last set of a track workout always reminds me of the painfully-obvious truth that youth is sometimes wasted on the young...or "unfairly" resides in someone a few years more senior than I. But I cannot help but crow like a proud parent at the accomplishment of a previously-unattempted distance run or the achievement of a personal best...or even the "perfect," consistent race, or an age group award...and the list goes on and on.

So, when you see that guy or girl out on the road putting one foot in front of the other, or that group of athletes sweating through a workout, or those crazy fools with whistles and mugs, some of whom might put on funny skirts, stand in a circle and sing crazy songs after chasing some dude throwing powder on the ground, give them a smile and wave hello.

Because, really, they're your distant cousins. And mine.

And - just ask any driver on the road - we are all family.