Training for an event of any kind means that once you have made the commitment, you need to create a plan to help you achieve your goal. Training for a 50K is very much similar to training for a marathon, but just amp up the mileage or time spent running. Each ultra runner creates their plans differently and thus there is not much in the way of resources online for a 50K training plan. I created my plan as a hybrid (of sorts) of two plans I did find and training advice and suggestions from some of the ultra greats. My idea was that I would run 4 or 5 times a week and cross train on my off days, leaving rest days to be used when really necessary. Many marathon training plans will throw in these more complex workouts, such as Yasso 800s, 3 x 500m sprint repeats, hills run, etc., but I think that kind of rigid scheduling will wear out the beginning marathoner or ultra distance runner. You have to be flexible and roll with the punches.
On this particular day my training plan called for a long run of about 10 miles. Amy decided to join me for this one and at around 8:30 am we were heading out in the crisp fall air. We kept a speedy pace down the DC streets stopping only at stop lights and while waving to other morning runners. We crossed the street here and there, allowing Amy to lead the way toward Rock creek Park. Our conversation drifted from topic to topic, grazing over what was currently going on in our lives and with our jobs. I tend not to look around too much on training runs, but as we headed south I looked up and saw a familiar building looming down the street, the White House. Now I know that you’ll think this is sad, but I have lived here for over 2 years and have not once visited the White House. The last time I even passed close by to this building, was when I was 13 years old. After a brief (potentially unpleasant) scuffle with some White House security guards (Mom, it was fine we didn't hear them (at first) yelling at us to get away from the gate as we were running by), we headed down toward the National Mall. For those of you who have never been to DC and/or know nothing about the area, the "National Mall" is Not a mall. It is essentially a 3-4 mile national park, complete with lakes, monuments, and historic memorials (sorry, no real woods here though). Running the mall is one of my favorite DC activities. I know there is lots to do in this hip, but politic-y town, but running around the mall makes you feel like you're in a scene out of West Wing. I often forget how big and impressive the monuments are till I am down there. When you are running around all of this history, you get a sense that you are in the heart of where it all began. Even thought that’s not really true, it’s still a cool feeling.
So down we went along the winding paths that go through the park, in between the Washington and Lincoln memorials. As we ran, I noticed that there were large crowds of people (not abnormal) walking around with matching colored shirts (slightly abnormal). My first thought when I see matching shirts in DC is, school field trip. But these individuals were mostly men in their late 40s. As we got closer and I was able to read the text on their shirts, I suddenly understood why the White House security guards were so jumpy earlier: it was 9/11 and there was an event going on for firefighters and EMTs in DC. I instantly felt stupid for not remembering this sooner and promised myself to call my family when I returned from my run and tell them how much I loved them and how grateful I am that they are alive. I do this every year; I don't think you'd need to ask why.
After clearing the mall area, we headed down to Rock Creek Parkway. Rock Creek Parkway is a great route to run. It's close enough to the road for runners and cyclists to feel safe, but far enough so that you are not in a bike lane or on the shoulder of the road. Some interesting facts about Rock Creek Park are that it was founded as a National Park (yes, I know, we hit 2 National Parks in one day) in 1890 A.D. and encompasses over 2000 acres of land. The Rock Creek Parkway (and trail) is EXACTLY the length of a 1/2 marathon, totaling out at 13.1 miles. That may not sound all that big compared to some of the National parks out west, but for DC it's an impressively long stretch of park. Now that I have this information I am tempted to try to put on a half marathon leading through the park. How cool would that be!?! Anyway back to our run. Things were going well for now, but I could feel my knee starting to ache, at the same time Amy clearly was just getting started. There comes a point for me in almost every event longer than 6 miles, where at the 5 mile mark I want to give up. Mile 5 is my proverbial mile 23: "the Wall." At mile 23 of the Marine Corps Marathon, I was rocking. I felt strong, good, and beat to shit, but awesome. I hit the 26.2 and remember clearly thinking, 'I could keep going if I needed to.' Like I have said before, I have built myself for distance. But mile 5 is the defining moment for me. I hate mile 5. I will almost never run exactly 5 miles. I will run 4 or 3 or 6 or 10, but not 5. And where we were at this point was approaching the dreaded mile 5. While discussing the route with Amy (attempting to forget where we were at mileage wise and wanting to quit), I realized that neither of us really knew the route we were on and the mileage that truly lay before us. She knew that if we ran up onto Connecticut Ave. and back to her apartment we'd round off the run at around 7 miles. I was tired and ending sounded nice, but I was dead set on running our full 10. So I did some estimation in my head and tried to base it all on time. *By the way, DO NOT EVER try to do math while running. It is impossible, unpleasant, frustrating, and most of all will always Always ALWAYS be wrong.* I figured that since we were at about 5 miles and had been running for about an hour, we should run for about 40 minutes more in our current direction on the trail and then head back. Hypothetically, while trying to account for time elapsed, speed, mileage, and wormholes in space, we would be able to say we had run 10 miles in the hour or so. So we kept moving forward.
As we passed the exit ramp for Connecticut Ave., I felt the strongest of urges to run up and away from the trail and more running, but I didn't. At this point we were running in line, me lagging behind Amy. By now we'd moved out of the "conversation" mileage. "Conversation" mileage refers to those first few (read as 5 or less) and last few miles were you and your running partner run side by side, carrying on a conversation. If you are the stronger runner, it's your job to talk more to your weakling, wussie partner; tell them stories and jokes so they are distracted from the pain of running. However, when you move above said mileage, you usually go silent. The only time this rule doesn't apply is with a large group. In large groups the person with constant talking duties is reserved for senior group members and rotates so no one person gets totally worn down. So we were running along and I was watching the scenery, observing the limited number of other runners, and trying not to think about my knees and (surprisingly) achy back. I have come to realize that on each run something unpleasant rears its head. Usually these "cranky spots" only last for a short time; a part of the run, the run itself, one week. Any "cranky spot" hurting over 1 week is an injury. During one race, my hip flexors locked up at mile 8 and I was reduced to a strange looking wobbly gait. But they were fine on my next run a few days later. Another time my foot started hurting like crazy during my run, but it subsided after about an hour of running. "Cranky spots" are certainly strange, but usually is one of those mechanisms your body/brain is using to try to shut you down. Usually you can run through the cranky, achy kinds of pains, because on the pain scale they are at a 3 or 4 (for me, I allow the "cranky spot" pain up to a 6). However, if you ever have a pain that is sudden and sharp (pain level 7-10), and as you continue to run on it, it hurts like hell, Stop running and see a doctor. Or research it online for days, then make a diagnosis and treatment plan yourself. Either way if it hurts for more than a week or is sudden and sharp, apply the R.I.C.E. method and stop running. By now on our run, my legs were sore and hips were stiffening, and my back was hurting, so I ran in this creepy "Smegol-esque" way. I already look like enough of a weirdo when I run with my dinosaur hands, but the back pain was making me look like a straight-up circus freak act. So I limped along behind Amy trying to figure out where the heck we were going and hoping she wouldn't turn around and accuse me of getting us lost.
The nice thing about the long run is that you run and run and run and run and then eventually you get to turn around. Some people prefer only routes where its one long run (called a point-to-point); others savor the turn around experience. I like to half and half it when I can. This means that I will run part of an out and back course; covering part of the first half in my second half and then deviating and taking a different route home. If you run alone or at odd hours doing point-to-point or long loops runs is safer because if anyone is tracking or following you, they will be expecting you to come back a certain way and you won't, thus outsmarting them. Try to never come back the way you left. So after we'd be running for a long time, we finally hit a spot where we could run along an actual trail (as opposed to the paved trail that ran parallel to the road). We followed it until the trail split giving us two choices, "Moderate" or "Difficult." Even though the "moderate" trail took us up a steep looking hill, we decided to follow it. After a while of run/walking up the hill and around the curves of the trail we decided the sign lied and we should start head back. We also had no idea where we were at this point so heading home seemed like a safe bet. I assured Amy I would map out the run when I got home to see how far we actually went.
The way back seemed to go fast and slow at the same time. There were moments when I felt like we were speeding along and then spots where I felt like crawling instead of running. I was easily getting lost in the trees and scenery one minute and drudging each step the next. Sometimes running can be a funny see-saw of emotions and feelings. But all in all, I was pretty tired as we finally approached the upward turn toward Connecticut Ave. However, when Amy explain how little left we had to run to reach her apartment, I felt rejuvenated. We finished up our run feeling strong, but worn out.
A few days later I mapped our run and found out we had run 14 miles that day. No wonder it hurt so badly!!! Happy runs ladies and gents!
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