I have always had such respect and admiration for elite runners who are able to consistently run 90+ mile weeks with their training leading up to races. I have typically kept my weekly averages in the mid 50 mile range because I need to fit in time to swim and ride my bike, and those activities eat up a lot of precious daylight. However, after I finished my “March Madness” month of two marathons, I decided that I wanted to put the bike and swim training on the back burner, and amp up my run training in preparation for my “A” race of the year, the Mountains to the Beach Marathon on May 25th, in Ventura, CA. This race was high on my priority list because I knew it would be fast, it is literally all downhill starting from Ojai and ending 26.2 miles down the road in Ventura. I know what you're thinking, and yes, that Ojai which was Iris McKay’s favorite place on earth, and would always try to drag Dylan off to in the high school years of BH 90210; Iris was right, Ojai is lovely. I knew I could train specifically for this race, whereas my 35th marathon would be jumbled up in the midst of other endurance events, but this race had my undivided attention. I was excited to test myself with the kind of training I had always wanted to try, but was too scared to attempt, now was my chance.
My friend and Coach Hadara was on board with my challenge and laid out some spectacular work outs for me over the six week ramp up to the race after my Griffith Park finish. I did add on a few miles here and there to reach the weekly numbers I wanted, which she was okay with, but I pretty much stuck to the plan: week one start with 60 miles, then increase every week until I tapped out at 90 miles per week. For the last eighteen months or so I had been faithful to the 16 mile long run, no more, no less, a trick I pulled out he Hanson’s Running Project, but this time around I needed to add a few more miles to my long run, 17, 18, 19, and 20 here I come!
The key to my big jump in mileage was having at least two work outs per day, a longer one in the morning, and a recovery jaunt in the afternoon/early evening. In my experience this is a somewhat civilized way to crush yourself, long/hard running in the morning, short/mellow running in the afternoon, I have tried the opposite, short then long, and it is just a brutal way to live your life. That said, what is the secret magic trick of it all? That’s simple, eating proper and plenty of nutrition before, during, and after runs. On a daily basis I eat countless bananas, always prepare a BIG smoothie in between work outs, and concoct a salad the size of most bath tubs loaded with every vegetable and nut variety in the house for dinner, yum.
I could go into how each day felt, each run in fact, but I will sum up by saying that when I reached my weekly mileage goals I felt like I just aced a Final exam. I needed to be calculated, consistent, and resilient day after exhausting day. This kind of training was both numbing and exhilarating, I was excited and nervous every day when I woke up and assessed my day ahead, I treated it like a job, which has kind of been the case for my Ironman training for years, but this race prep was about me living an “out of reach” lifestyle that I never dreamed I could handle. I don’t think I ever cried, but I nearly passed out on more than a few occasions, still I reached my 90 mile weekly goal at the end of it all, and knew that I was more prepared for this marathon than any other, #34 was going to be legendary.
I drove up to Ventura the night before the race because I had to catch a very early bus on race morning up to Ojai. Honestly, I also felt like I earned a treat after putting forth the most brutal training block to date, so out my door and off I went 75 minutes up the coast to sleepy, yummy Ventura; a town I instantly fell in love with, and would love to lay stakes in as soon as my book sells millions, and I can spring Marion from work. Maybe not tomorrow, but some day…
On my jaunt to the bus stop, I met a few fellow runners from Chicago, they laid out some quick previous marathon times during our pre-dawn chit-chat session, so I knew this race would live up to the hype as a near "gimme" Boston qualifier. I was excited about the heavy downhill, even with my disastrous past with heavy downhill marathons, remember Tucson? Nevertheless, I felt good about this one, I had confidence that my thunderous “cycling” quads could handle the constant pounding of my 150lb. bod against the pavement for over three hours, it might get ugly, but she was up for it.
The race start was a bit odd because there were Port-O-Potty’s lined up along the streets for blocks, but the lines moved at glacial pace, so I decided comfort was more important than starting position, and bestowed all my faith in my timing chip. Once I started I was motivated to bounce and dart my way through the very speedy field, because once we hit the bike path a bottle neck was unavoidable, so this big girl ran as fast as she could to find the perfect pace mates once the course got real.
An odd feeling washed over me at about the 10 mile mark, it was as if my mind was not quite in rhythm with my legs, and I started to feel light-headed, and unknowingly slowed my pace. I knew I needed fuel so I popped a Clif Block, told my legs to keep going, this fast pace is exactly what we had been training for, now was the time to go for it, sub 3:20 baby!!!
Further down the hill I tasted salt in the air and knew the ocean was close, but I still had the last annoying 7 miles to slog through before I would be done for the day. Suddenly, my GPS lost its connection to the satellite, mile 17 lasted WAAAY too long, which meant I was on my own for pacing… hmm, it’s a good thing this was not my first rodeo, it was time to dust off my “perceived effort” skills and take it home to the finish.
The last 2 miles were brutal, I felt like a slug, but then I saw the finish line banner about 600 meters down the beach, and I decided to switch on my “Vista” speed and obliterate myself in an effort to creep under 3:20hrs.
I picked off a few runners in the chute, one girl seemed a little annoyed, but I’m sure she learned a lesson that day, give the finish EVERYTHING you have, and don’t be afraid to shatter your competitors dreams, it’s a race. Once I crossed the line I looked at my watch, 3:20:26, so close…. I stumbled around my super-fast comrades cloying for water bottles then plopped down on the grass and smiled, I PR’d, the hard work paid off, and I only had one more marathon before this quest would be over.
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