Wow, I just went for a 7 mile run. That’s the farthest I’ve run since I was a sophomore in high school (that was 25 years ago, but who’s counting?). I have been running 3.5 to 5 miles a day, so I figured bumping up to 7 miles occasionally would be no big deal. I was wrong. Ye gad, was I wrong!
I’m sore in my thighs, my knees, and even my arms. I’m sore in my back. I’m vaguely dizzy.
I’m hoping to run in the Charlotte half marathon on December 9, which would be almost twice as far as I just ran today. I’m also hoping to run 8-minute miles, which would be considerably faster than I ran today (8:45 miles).
I think I might be hitting the level of running where I actually need to start planning my runs. For example, I might want to bring water or some other form of liquid along. I might even want some kind of carbo-gel thingy. Maybe I need better shoes. I definitely need a better shirt, because the one I wore today was chafing uncomfortably.
Who knew this was going to be so much work? I mean, I knew I’d need to run a lot to get ready for this thing, but I figured that’d be about it — gradually increase the number of miles I run until it’s time for the big event.
I found this article about how to prepare for this sort of thing. Looks like I was doing it all wrong — I actually probably need to be running less than I am, but doing it more efficiently. If that’s really the case, then I’m all for it. I’m also a bit skeptical of the “results” of this training method — the Kiawah Marathon, where the results were clocked, is known for being one of the flattest, easiest marathons around. In fact, it’s the one I was planning to race, until I found out that registration has already sold out, 15 days after it opened. So, Charlotte it is. Here’s hoping my body holds out until then.
Take heart, this 45-year-old did the Los Angeles Marathon last year. I had run some 5K and 10K in years previous
and cocky guy that I am simply signed up.
For the first half-marathon, I did what I planned to do: nine-minute miles. Then, at mile 15, my legs seized up;
at mile 17, my blister burst. I walked the rest of the way. When downtown came into view, still three miles away,
I shouted, “THIS is where the five-K starts?” and got a few laughs.
I completed the marathon in 5 hours, thirty minutes.
As I was limping back to the car, my wife said, “You’re going to do this again, aren’t you?”