The Boston Diaries: Chapter 15
Let the taper begin
As each day passed last week, I worried something was off. My runs were fine enough, but with week 15 being the last heavy-mileage week, fine wasn’t what I was looking for. A beast workout left me disappointed at some of my splits, the final weekday 14-miler left me unsatisfied, and suddenly I was staring down the barrel at a Sunday 20-miler with winds of 20+ miles per hour and gusts around 40 mph.
My confidence, so often one of my biggest strengths when it comes to running, was somewhere else. I searched for it wherever I could, in the end discussing it with my therapist for about half of this week’s session. In the end, the answers for why the week wasn’t perfect were staring me straight in the face.
Banks had a proactive surgery on Monday. I saw him off in the morning and the next time I saw him that night, he was drugged up, sore, and tired. Often so full of life, he was incredibly subdued. He needed rest, but couldn’t get comfortable. I found myself sitting on the floor with him, trying to coax him into some sleep. Trying to remind him he’d be ok. The night (and week) took a lot out of me.
By the time Wednesday’s beast run arrived, that “off” feeling started setting in. A poor night of sleep led to a tougher morning than normal. On top of Banks’ restlessness, a freak wrist injury from the previous week started showing itself in worse ways. I woke up in pain Tuesday and by Wednesday morning, it was obvious this wasn’t one of those “I slept on it wrong” injuries1. I picked up a brace after work that night, hoping that would help. Thankfully, it did, but not after another poor night of sleep, as I tried to get used to wearing it in bed.
The one positive of it all? I could run without any issues. So I did. The week just wasn’t going like I wanted it to.
By the end of my therapy session Thursday, it was obvious why I was struggling: My dog was coming back to health, and I was feeling for him. On top of that, I couldn’t take him for walks all week, an important part of our relationship, and something I know helps me mentally. Throw in a hand injury, not to mention the final heavy mileage week of this training cycle, and it’s no wonder the week wasn’t what I wanted it to be.
By the time Sunday rolled around, Banks was feeling better, my wrist was feeling better, and I was determined to put 20 great miles together as week 15 came to a close.
The log:
Monday: 20 minutes of weightlifting + a 3-mile walk
Tuesday: 6 miles in the AM + 4 miles in the PM
Wednesday: 11 miles with 5 x 1200 meter repeats
Thursday: 14 miles
Friday: 8 miles with 8 x 100 meter strides
Saturday: 5 miles
Sunday: 20 miles
Total: 68 miles
Year to date: 945.52 miles
Day 100: Banks was taken to the vet early in the morning, so Riss and I went out for three miles, just us two, like the old days. Great conversation throughout, though we definitely missed Banks. He should be good to go with shorter walks again starting today or tomorrow, and I am looking forward to it! Added the usual weight training after. Wrist wasn’t feeling too bad throughout those 20 minutes, but just annoying enough to cause a bit of concern.
Day 101: Was really pleased with both of Tuesday’s runs, especially given they came on the warmest day of the year for me thus far. Six in the morning — 9:08 per + 128 average heart rate — and four in the evening — 9:20/129. I couldn’t get over how the run looked at night. No trees full of leaves, grass still brown, etc., yet it smelled like summer. I know I did! First run of the year with temps in the 80s. I know it won’t be the last!
Day 102: In hindsight, Wednesday’s run shouldn’t have bothered me like it did. 11 miles overall, with 1200-meter repeats five times over. Felt solid the first four miles before I started pushing myself. I hoped to keep each interval around 4:15 and did a solid job the first three times — 4:18, 4:17, and 4:12 — the issues cropped up with the fourth and fifth — 4:22 and 4:27 — each coming into the wind2 with elevation right at the start of the fourth one. All in all, 7:23 per mile across those 11 miles with an average HR of 152. It wasn't a bad run by any means, I just wanted it to be better, especially coming off Saturday's Early Bird race.
Day 103: In hindsight, Thursday’s run should have bothered me like it did. My pace was solid — 7:51-per mile — and my HR wasn’t terrible — 151 on average — but the feel of this run was entirely off. Wind was in my face on the way out, but when I turned around to come back, the temps rose more than expected. I never got my HR in check like I wanted to and it showed over the last few miles.
The one silver lining? As I finished up mile 12, I saw someone walking and he pointed at me, saying something. I couldn’t hear what it was, so he repeated himself. “Chasing three hours!” I gave him a shoutout on my Instagram, truly the only positive from the run, and came to find out his name is Ryan. So Ryan, cheers to you! I needed that.
Day 104: Broken record alert: the one negative about Friday’s run — eight miles overall, 7:30-per, 148 HR — was that seven of my eight 100-meter strides were right into the wind. The one time I had it at my back I ran it in a 4:24-mile pace, easily the fastest I’ve run in years. A good one to go into the weekend with.
Day 105: I think Saturday’s run was peak “something’s off with me mentally,” because again, something wasn’t right, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. With weather horrible, I kept this recovery run inside. Went 9:14-per with a 113 HR — so the metrics were good! I just didn’t feel right. Nothing with my body, instead it was all mental. I spent the rest of the day dialing in my mind. I read more than half of Alison Mariella Désir’s Running While Black before finishing the evening with pieces I hadn’t yet read from my favorite writer on running, Peter Bromka3. I was searching for inspiration. I hoped I'd found it.
Day 106: All roads led to Sunday. With brutal winds on tap, I decided to keep things on Flanagan. Rather than going out and back on West Papio, I’d break up wind in my face with wind at my back4. I didn't know what to expect the first couple miles as I went into it, but all worries of the week seemed to disappear as I set out for the run. It would be a challenge, but I was weirdly excited for it.
The first two miles finished in 8:15 and 8:12, a good half-minute slower than what I’ve liked to do on runs like this throughout the year. But when I turned south not even a half-mile later… wow! The wind at my back was comically hilarious. I ran the next three miles at 7:45, 7:37, and 7:35. By the time I ran east along the dam, I wished it would have been possible to run point-to-point in Omaha. Why not just run 20 miles south and then take an Uber home? Well for one thing, I didn’t feel like spending that money, but more importantly, I would have missed out on the feeling of accomplishment the challenge presented.
And so, I did this dance for 20 miles. North into the wind, trying to keep my miles as close as possible to 8:00, succeeding every time, before going sub-7:40, if not faster, every time I went south.
The final 20-miler of the cycle finished and I couldn’t have been happier. 2:35:18 — a 7:46-pace — with my HR averaging 145. I let out a hearty yell as I made my way back to my car. A frustrating week finished on a high note. I felt like I was back.
The taper for Lincoln begins now. The ultimate countdown to Boston continues. The 127th edition runs this morning. In 52 weeks, I’ll be there.
The other days I had this issue, I usually woke up in pain but was mostly fine as the day unfolded. Wednesday at 2:00 am, I woke up and was in an incredible amount of pain. I could barely type all day.
A theme this week!
My favorite of his, The Bubble of a Dream, is absolutely incredible. I read it in late February and have slowly been working my way through other writing of his ever since. Carve out some time for this one, you’ll be blown away.
I was very pleased with this decision. Right before I went to bed, I found out the wind would be coming out of the north, which meant I’d get it at my back on the long side of the lake. And, had I kept it at West Papio, it would have been in my face the entire way home. No thanks.
Great stuff this week! Way to power through and dominate that Sunday run.