Q & A

Q & A: This past weekend, I completed a 60 kilometer/37 mile training run. In many ways it was a dry run for the race which is approaching in about one month. What follows are some questions that people have asked about the preparation as well as my answers. Hopefully this clarifies what my process for the run was.

Question: How long did it take you?

Answer: Time on my feet was 6 hours and 2 minutes. I ran 18 miles out and 19 back. The first half was 2:45. The second was 3:17. At the midpoint I met my wife, Carissa, who had refills of Gu and water as well as some food. This midpoint break was about 15 minutes (although I honestly didn’t keep accurate track of the time).

Question: What did you eat and drink during the run?

Answer: During the six hours I consumed 8 Gu (720 cal), 7 scoops of Perpetuum mixed with water (945 cal), a PB&J (about 430 cal), a serving of M&M’s (about 250 cal), potato chips (about 300 cal). This was approximately 2,600 calories—about half of the total calories burned. The total fluids consumed were about 2.5 quarts during the run. I also had a salt pill to replenish my electrolytes.

Question: How were your feet afterward?

Answer: Not good…not bad. I developed a blister on the ball of my foot about mile 7. I was not able to do anything about it until I met up with my wife when I was able to lance it and cover it with duct tape. The next day I noticed that I had two dime sized blood blisters on both “ring-finger” toes. I guess over 16,000 individual foot strikes will do that, even when the irritation is only minor. Fortunately I was able to also change my socks mid-way which helped.

Question: What about your legs?

Answer: Interestingly my hamstrings were tight day one, but on day two the soreness moved away from there and into my quads instead. Most of the really tender areas were in my hips though. As a whole, my legs felt pretty good. In previous marathons I have had trouble with stairs for a day or two. Not so this time. That said, the last hour plus of the run was pretty painful. I kind of felt like the bones in my legs were going to snap in two with each foot-strike.

Question: What do you think about for six hours?

Answer: Well, for the first three Andrew and had some pretty good conversations about politics, athletics, our social circle, etc. On the way back, we started to run separately for various reasons. Much of that time, I was alone. Even though I didn’t want to think about the discomfort I was feeling in my legs, it dominated much of my thoughts. I avoided looking at the mile markers too much. That really messes with your head. It was kind of like spending a night in a disgusting hotel room. You lie there in the dark; the clock moves very slowly. You try to not so much ignore the discomfort as come to terms with it. The last ten miles, I was feeling pretty bad. However, I tried to focus on my stride and accept the new baseline of pain. For most of the time, I was also running constant diagnostics on my body: How are my feet? Am I avoiding lactic acid build-up? Fluids ok? Do I need more fuel? What is my heart rate? If you have ever driven an old car where you spend as much time watching the oil pressure as the speedometer, it is kind of like that. You spend a fair amount of time wondering if and when you are going to blow a gasket.

Question: What will you do differently for the race?

Answer: First I need to change my shoes. I was wearing my older trail shoes, and they were a bit too beat up to support my feet for that long. As well, I think the blisters were a function of the uppers being too worn and soft. Secondly, I need to pace better. We ran the first half too fast. The half hour difference between sections is evidence of this. I also need to consume more water. I had limited supplies to work with as I had to carry everything for each half. At least in the race, I will be able to refill about every 7 or 8 miles if necessary. This should help me stay better hydrated.

Question: Did this training run provide you with the confidence that you will finish?

Answer: Not exactly. If anything I learned that I am growing rapidly as a long distance runner. The mistakes I made during my 50K run were not repeated. The minor problems that I had this time are all simple fixes. I have a strong plan and my fitness level is where it belongs. The only question that remains is the mental component. The race will be like tacking a half-marathon onto the end of this training run. At that point it will be a deeply psychological task; I can tell that already. Near Mount St. Helens there are these lava tubes that are essentially long caves. When you first step into them, you are reluctant to stray too far from the light coming through the opening. However, you go a hundred yards into the blackness and gain a little confidence. Ultimately, you need to leave the opening behind and trust that somewhere after the darkness is the exit hole. It becomes an exercise in controlling apprehension. The run is going to be a lot like that for me. The last couple hours will be wandering in the dark trying to manage the mental strain brought on by time and pain. I suppose that I will only have 100% confidence when I come to the finish line. But isn’t that true for most things in life?

Question: Have you figured out yet what this means, why you are doing this?

Answer: If you mean beyond the scholarship, then the answer is yes. At first this was purely a physical exercise. Could I train my body to execute this task? Somewhere along the line, the task took on a more mental or psychological aspect. I have been thinking a lot about athleticism recently and what constitutes a truly fit person. At first I thought that training for this would make me a fitter athlete. What I have come to realize is that I don’t think that has necessarily happened. I may be marginally stronger, but I am not aerobically better off. I was going to check my body fat percentage before and after, but I suspect now that it (sadly) hasn’t changed much. If anything, I think I am mentally fitter. I have a better sense of what my true limits are and have come to realize that I rarely push myself anywhere near the edge of those limits. Perhaps I now have a greater sense of confidence because I know now just how deeply I can dig when necessary.