Tapering, I thought, would be awesome. Cutting back on mileage? Slowing it down, for the most part? Yes, please. I looked forward to easy workouts, and more free time to catch up on laundry, pick up a new knitting project, read more, etc.
How misguided I can be.
Instead of feeling rejuvenated and ready to roll lately, I have felt terrible. Although the scale doesn't show it, my legs tell me that I've gained at least 50 pounds when I head out for a run, these days. My right hamstring aches constantly, and my left knee, which never hurt during my heavier weeks, is sore. Even my right ankle is getting cranky for no good reason. To top it off, supportive friends keep asking me how my training is going, and it's all I can do to put on a happy face and tell them that I feel great and am getting really excited. In fact, feel awful and was getting really scared. I was beginning to worry that I'd even finish the race in (gulp) less than a week, much less put in anything like a good performance.
But my generation has a mantra, and I chanted it to myself this morning as I was beginning to really approach panic-mode. "Google first, worry later." To the Internet.
Within five minutes, I'd read several discussion boards and a Runner's World article that have given me new hope. What I am suffering is so common that it even has several names, among them Taperitis, Taper Madness, Taper Blues, and Taper Tantrums. One blogger assures that Taper Madness is not fatal, but symptoms include emotional angst, mental anxiety, physical stress, and driving loved ones crazy. And according to the Runner's World article, "Twinges and passing aches are all part of the body's rejuvenation process. 'During a taper, tissue repair on the microscopic level causes muscle twitches and sometimes muscle cramps as the body adapts,' says Dr. Smurawa. Also, when we run less, and worry more about our marathon, everyday aches and pains-which would normally be ignored--get exaggerated to the point of lunacy."
I've never been happier to be called a lunatic. I can't tell you how reassuring it is that other people experience this. Maybe I'm not necessarily doomed. And so, for now, my pre-race plan will be as follows:
1) Chill out. Maybe engage in some positive visualization or something.
2) Related: Read as many articles as I can about the course* so I know exactly what to expect. Finalize plan for where my family and friends will be standing.
3) Go on easy runs daily. During the early part of the week, throw in a few short intervals of race-pace running so I remember what it feels like. Finish workouts with stride-outs.
4) Do dynamic stretching before workouts and roll hamstrings, hips, and quads after.
5) Eat lots of simple carbs on Friday and Saturday. Also, drink lots of Gatorade.
6) Repeat words of wisdom from various sources. "The week before the race is a mind game." -My wise and running-savvy friend Juan. "Keep the faith and stay the course." -My boss, who is not a runner but who is still wise. "Your months of training are not going to just go away in a week." -Some dude on a runners' discussion board I found online. "If you're afraid of it then you have to do it." -Ed
Having a plan in place has always made me feel calmer. Writing is helpful, too. I have no idea what will actually happen on the big day, but I spent a lot of time preparing, and there's really nothing more I can do now (except screw it up by running too hard or falling down the stairs.) And there's a certain comfort in knowing that you've done all you can and it's time to turn it over to fate. So bring it on, marathon.
*A friend asked me recently whether I'd done a lot of training on the course, and, unfortunately, the answer is no. In a perfect world, I'd have run the course to get a sense of what I'll face, but for 364 days of the year it's not very conducive to running. At least one of the bridges on the course is closed to pedestrians every day of the year but marathon day, and the rest of the route goes along streets that are choked with car, bike, and pedestrian traffic, which makes for frustrating and fairly worthless workouts. A tiny part of the race goes through Central Park, so I'll be on familiar ground for a little while. But for the most part, I will have to rely on reading to know what to expect. I've done a lot of this already, and it's really been helpful. For example, I know that the first mile (the first half of the Verazzano Bridge) will be all uphill, and the second mile will be all downhill. Information like this is invaluable, both because it will help me plan my strategy (slower than race pace until I get to the "top" of the bridge), and because I'll be more confident on race day. Feeling exhausted 800 meters in would be pretty demoralizing, but now I know that, yes, I'll probably feel pretty lethargic at first because I'm running uphill, and that's OK because every step brings me closer to a long downhill stretch.
No comments:
Post a Comment