Track Work

There is an endless assortment of workouts you can do before a marathon, with different schools of thought touting one type over another. I think most will agree that the closer to race pace and distance you are, the more the workout matters. To me that means marathon pace workouts are the ones to nail and the ones I put the most emphasis on, followed by tempo runs,  and finally track workouts. Although least important, track workouts are still a staple of my prep: pushing yourself at shorter, faster efforts can teach you that you have more to give, even when you already feel like you’re sprinting. And sometimes it’s just fun to fly down the track.

But there’s no consensus on just how to do them. Some training plans (for example, Advanced Marathoning) include shorter efforts (like 5 x 600) in the second half of the season, as you start to peak, to work on VO2max (how much oxygen you can take in and turn to energy). On the other hand, Renato Canova (a renowned coach of many top Kenyan marathoners) sticks with what I said above—that efforts closer to race pace matter above all—and does the opposite, emphasizing intervals that get longer and slower (closer to marathon effort) as the season progresses. I’ve been curious about Canova’s methods (read more here) for a while, but have yet to make the (rather drastic) jump. My track workouts are somewhat in the middle of these two extremes.

Below are some of my favorites to do during a marathon buildup. I need to credit Coach Jerry of GRC for inspiring most of these. Under his tutelage and weekly track workouts, I dropped ten minutes off my marathon time and was able to hit paces in workouts that intimidated me when I first read them. Just writing these down makes me miss all the laps (and commiserating over a shared hatred for 2Ks) with the speedy GRC ladies!

These intervals are generally done on the slower end of 5K pace. (Or right on/slightly faster than 5K pace for me, because my 5K times have never quite measured up.) For simplicity’s sake, I almost always jog a lap between reps, but I give myself a little extra (maybe a minute more) for intervals in the 1.5-2 mile range. (One rule of thumb is to take rest for 50-90% of the time it takes to run the interval. If an interval takes 6:00, the rest—mostly easy jogging—would be 3:00-5:24.)

THE TUNE UP: 6 x 800

I always run at least one half marathon or ten miler in the lead up to the marathon (see my upcoming races here) as a tune-up to see where I’m at fitness-wise, to get a hard workout in, and to practice racing and all the logistics that go with it. Three or four days before a tune-up race, I do 6 x 800 meter repeats, starting at a very comfortable pace and progressing with each one. I don’t do any too hard; the goal is to feel fast yet relaxed and to remind your head and legs of the speed you’ve got but not do anything that will leave you tired for the race.

LADDERS

There are endless variations of ladders: some building up and coming down (400, 800, 1200, 1600, 1200, 800, 400) or just coming down (3200, 2400, 1600, 800). You could also go by minutes, more fartlek style, if you want to do it off the track. (For example, 2 min, 3 min, 4 min, 5 min, 4 min, 3 min, 2 min). These are fun because each interval is different, so it’s a different challenge, which can make it less mentally tough. The next interval may be longer than the last, but it’s slower (or faster but shorter) so you can talk yourself into focusing on whatever aspect is getting easier. I think these are good earlier in the season when the longer stuff seems too intimidating, but it can be fun to switch up the paces whenever.

THE GRINDERS

These are the longer intervals that really teach you to keep grinding at a pretty tough pace. I’ll do either 3 x 3200 (2 mile) or 4 x 2400 (1.5 mile) with a slightly longer rest than the other workouts. These can also be done off the track to better simulate road racing conditions, although I’d still opt for a flat route. Of course all these workouts could be managed on a road if a track is unavailable, but I tend to think the longer, slower stuff is easier to translate. It’s tough to hit super fast splits for the shorter stuff off the track.

THE DREADED: 2K repeats

I hate 2K repeats. I don’t know why I hate them more than the longer stuff (see above), maybe it’s because the paces are always slightly faster. Something about 5 laps just intimidates me; I can wrap my head around 4 laps, even 8 laps (telling myself I’ll be going slower) but 5 laps are dreaded. That said, the workouts you dread are often the ones you need to do most; dreading them is probably a sign they are taxing some system that needs work. I usually do about 4 repeats of these.

FINAL FLOURISH: 3x 1600

This is my favorite track workout of the season. About 10 days out from the marathon, I do my last track workout, 3 x 1600. The first rep is relaxed, the second is faster but controlled, and the last one is basically all out. I usually set a PR on the last (yea, it’s a little strange to set PRs in workouts but I haven’t raced a mile since high school), which gives me the confidence I need for race day. (See the video below, when I set a (then) PR of 5:22 ten days before CIM.) 

That’s really the biggest thing track workouts do for me; ostensibly, they’re helping my lungs and legs, but really it’s about building confidence and feeling fast.

Dream big, 

Teal 

The (Un)Loneliness of a Long Distance Runner

We leave DC today. While the last few weeks have been a whirlwind of figuring out what exactly goes into buying a home and excitement about having a whole house, there have also been jolting reminders of what I’m going to miss: all the friends I’ve made in my seven years here.  

Particularly, my running friends.

I’ve talked about my GRC teammates a lot: their help getting through workouts, their constant support, even the science behind increased pain tolerance when working out together. But of course there’s more, like the simple camaraderie of long runs.

Fast friends.

I’m painfully shy. Sometimes I try to pretend I’m not and dive headfirst into a new situation or conversation (fake it ‘til you make it, right?) but inside I’m screaming with awkwardness. (Often not just inside…) Usually, though, I can’t repress my shyness. I feel incredibly vulnerable when I share too much (and yes, this happens a lot when publishing posts), but somehow, on the run, that loosens. Endorphins (and whatever else causes the runner’s high) can act a bit like a stiff drink, evaporating the awkwardness. You quickly get to know someone if you run with them for a few hours. Do it week after week after week and you’ll cover a lot of ground, in more ways than one. (And that’s before the additional layer of friendship that comes with suffering through the agony of 2K repeats together.)

Before I joined GRC, I was worried about the team dynamic because I was so used to doing my own thing. But, I knew a team would make me faster and I thought it’d be nice to have some friends that shared my love of running. So, shy as ever, I dove in. The first long run I did with the girls occurred a few days into the London Olympics. They talked about the Olympics with the same excited obsession as me and I remember realizing, “These are my people.” That’s been confirmed a million times in the last four years, but most recently as we all gathered together to fan girl the track Trials, while scarfing chips and guac and brownies and casually dropping Friends references.

Part of me is in denial. Richmond isn’t far, so it’s no big deal, right? And obviously we’ll stay close. But there’s something special about doing long runs together, week after week after week, that can’t be achieved over text message. That's what I'll miss the most.

Dream big,

Teal

Gratitude: Part 2

Best #squad ever. (Photo by Melissa Barnes.) 

The Trials are over and people have been asking what will happen to the blog now. We’ll get to that next time, I promise. But, before moving on, there are a couple things that need to be said.

At the beginning of the season I wrote that I wanted to be grateful for the ability to run, even when things don’t go perfectly. (I think I did pretty well…) Now I want to take the time and space for a different type of gratitude: to show my thanks to all of you.

I apologize if this is too acceptance speech-y, but in general I don’t think people get enough thanks—or maybe I just don’t give them enough thanks. So here’s my feeble attempt to make up for it.

Thanks to... 

All of You

The Internet can be a dark, hateful place, but somehow I’ve found the Internet’s nicest commenters in the history of commenters. If you sent me a comment, message, tweet, like, etc. in the days before the Trials, after the Trials, or ever, please know it meant the world to me. Inspiration goes both ways, and hearing about all of you working towards your own goals inspires me. Let’s keep this feedback loop going!

My doctors

Remember when I nearly broke my femur last summer? My doctors didn’t tell me to give up running or that I was crazy to want to race the Trials in a few months. Instead they made a plan and got healing. So thanks to Drs. Epsley, Moran, and Hudson for not giving me the standard doctor-to-runner line, but for staying positive and getting me ready to go by the fall.

My GRC teammates

When I joined the team in 2012, I hoped my teammates would make me a better runner, but I had no idea by how much, nor how close we’d become. I now count my teammates among my best friends. The weekend long runs, the track workouts, the Pierce Peirce Mill meet ups, the endless Hains Point loops, none of it would be as fast or as fun without these girls. And their positivity and support, before and after every race, is amazing. When you have twenty superstar athletes telling you that you can do it, you start believing.

GRC's Trials watch party: sending good vibes from afar.

Coach Jerry

Coach Jerry gives every single athlete on our ever-expanding team so much personalized attention you’d think it was his full time job (it’s not). After the races that don't go as well as expected he always finds the positive spin, staying relentlessly hopeful. And every Wednesday night, he’s out at the track in the dark/cold/snow/squall juggling six stopwatches with numb hands. (Though he did get some heated gloves this season, thank goodness.)

Post race at the Brooks party with Coach.

My non-running friends*  

Yes, I have a life outside of running (sometimes) and friends that love me despite my obsession. Somehow these people put up with my lame early nights and overly detailed descriptions of my latest workout/race/blister. Three of my neuroscientist friends even came all the way to LA to cheer, surprising me with a neuro-centric sign at exactly the right moment.

(*Well, many of them run, but we didn’t meet through running. And I’m pretty sure they love me in spite of my running, not because of it.)

Willing to bet this is the only sign at the Trials with a
brain and neurons on it. Which makes it the best. 

My family

Over Christmas 2014, a few weeks after I qualified, a bunch of my family members insisted they would come see me race in LA. “That’s crazy,” I told them. “It’s too far, it’s too expensive…” I should not have doubted them. My family is that enthusiastic, supportive, and all together awesome that a horde of them (aunts, uncles, cousins) made good on their promise and came to LA. Those that couldn’t donned their shirts and watched from home. I never made it on the broadcast, but many Team Teal members did. They deserved their moment of fame (and much more), because their cheers carried me through the race. (As did the cheers I could feel from back home.) 

Team Teal. There were actually more than pictured here... 

Brother

Brother was the first inspiration for this dream, before marathons were on my radar. When I was a freshmen in college, he competed in the Hawaii Ironman, a race he had dreamed of qualifying for for years. I saw the work that he put in to qualify, how crazy awesome the goal was (the Hawaii Ironman is the World Championships), and the elation when he achieved it. At eighteen, I wondered if I’d ever be as passionate about something or do anything nearly as incredible.

Years later, Brother went on to be a favorite character of this blog. Whether he was helping pace me or trying to beat me, his efforts made me a better runner. But his Ironman journey had already made me a dreamer.

Brother cheering. This shirt is my favorite of his race day shirts.

Sister

In the summer before I started high school, Sister somehow convinced me that running is not “the most boring sport on the planet” (my words) and that I should give it a try. She’s now a successful lawyer, but I’d argue (though not as well as her) that convincing me to run was her biggest victory. (She’s also responsible for Brother’s successful running career, mostly because, as a child, he didn’t want to be beaten by his little sister. A trait he carries to this day.)

She was a star runner in high school and I always (still) look up to her competitiveness and drive. We ran our first marathon “together,” but she dropped me in the first mile and has never raced me since. (Which is probably the strategy Brother wishes he’d taken.) In my eyes, she’ll always be the star, but—even if we disagree on that—she’s undeniably the spark that started the Connor running clan.

With Sister. Oh hey, running's not so boring after all.

Mom and Dad

Obviously there are too many thanks to fit here. Here’s just one example of their level of endless support: my parents still come to all my “meets.” They used to come to my cross country and track meets in high school, which I thought was pretty standard (okay, I was spoiled). When they started coming to all my marathons, all around the freaking country, I finally realized I had some spectacularly supportive parents. I think they thought I’d be satisfied with running one marathon, but have somehow supported me through 13, coming to 11.

And they don’t just come to stand at the finish line. Oh no, they drive around, squeeze onto the overcrowded T, and race along the course to see me at as many spots as humanly possible. (Which is more spots than possible for most humans.) They decorate water bottles, t-shirts, and go searching for that jar of peanut butter I forgot to pack. My parents always go above and way beyond in supporting me (and not just in running, of course).

Mom, Dad, (and Husband, below) are all my #1 fan(s). 
(Right photo by Melissa Barnes.)

Husband

The lame Friday nights, the weekend mornings overtaken by long runs, the travel to and from races, the pasta, oh, the endless pasta… This Run Washington piece says it best: spouses don’t get enough credit. Husband has been to 12 out of my 13 marathons (we’ll give him a pass on the first since he didn’t know me yet), but even more incredible is that he’s put up with me in the days leading to those 12 marathons.

He’s held the watch at the track (rain or shine), paced me on the bike (rain or driving wind), wiped away the tears from non-PRs, injuries, tragedies. He both supports my (sometimes) delusional reasoning about why I’m ready for a massive PR and simultaneously keeps me sane. (The CIM race report captures this double duty best.) And when things go well, he is every bit as excited as me, (as he deserves to be, for all he’s done to get me there!) which makes it that much more fun when they do.

(Husband is also the one man design team behind all this: the reason this site is much more than black text on a white background and the reason those Team Teal shirts were so awesome.)

Husband's pass said "Athlete Support." That's one way to seriously understate it.
(Photos by Melissa Barnes.)

Sometimes people ask how I get the confidence to go after my big dreams. These people are how. Thank you all.

Dream big (and thank those that help you do so), 

Teal