The agony of injury

It was the toughest week of Hal Higdon's Advanced Post-Marathon training schedule, and I was killing it.  I was even doing extra.

When the plan called for a 90-minute run at an easy pace, I did 14 miles at a comfortable, but certainly not leisurely, 7:27 pace (for a total of 1:44:45).

When the plan called for eight 400-meter intervals at 5K pace, I did nine, averaging four seconds faster than 5K pace for each.

When the plan called for three miles at 5K pace, I ran them, but couched as miles two, four and six in a seven-mile run.

When the plan called for a 40-minute tempo run, I did 45.

And when Sunday rolled around, my left Achilles tendon was telling me to shut it down. 

I did not listen, of course. 

Instead, I ran another 14-miler.  But this time, the pain slowed me to a jog by the halfway point, and a limping shuffle by mile 10, resulting in a time of 2:03:21 (an 8:48 pace).

But the agony of the injury is not in the pain itself. It is in the psychological tricks it plays. I started to wonder if I had done permanent damage (worst case scenario) or if I would be better in time for the 5K I was planning to run on April 7 (best case scenario) and everything in between.

So all this past week, I played it cool, resting Monday, and doing simple five-milers for the next three days - icing the tendon whenever possible.

The five slow miles on Tuesday (8+ pace) gave way to a better effort on Wednesday (7+ pace) and a return to form on Thursday (6+ pace). I can not say I am completely better, but after doing a 40 minute tempo run yesterday and a 14-mile run today, I would say that the theory of "active recovery" is being nicely put into practice.  But the agony of the injury continues to nag at my brain.

Seven days until prospective race day.

Post-marathon speed training

After six years of being a marathon runner, I continue to use Hal Higdon's training schedules.  They have worked so well for me and have become second nature in my schedule - long runs on Sundays, cross-training on Mondays, rest on Fridays, and some speed intervals and tempo runs thrown into the mix during the week.

Mr. Higdon's recipe for post-marathon training involves changing what your body has been used to for the past 18 weeks.  After a week of slow recovery, he begins to focusing on short, fast runs.  Instead of working on long endurance, you train your body to do short, fast bursts. 

The Advanced program involves some great training tools once a week for four weeks:

Tempo runs - starting slow, building to race pace, then slowing back down, during the course of a 30 to 50 minute run.

400-meter speed intervals - on the track, doing a lap at 5K pace, then jogging a lap, and repeating four to eight times.

One-mile intervals - running three one-mile intervals at a designated pace, the first week at marathon pace, but the fourth week at 5K pace.

Mr. Higdon suggests a 5K race after four weeks of this training and it really is a perfect way to start a new season of running.  I have gotten a few PRs at some of these first post-marathon 5Ks (and have come close in others), so it is worth putting in the work - and it is hard work at times.

Return to the scene of the awesomeness

The Central Park Marathon was a triumph, no question.  And it was never more clearly evident than in the painstaking three miles I tried to run on Thursday.  I was sore in all the right ways, but after three days of rest, I was simply not ready to get back out there and shuffled along at an 8+ minute pace.

So I took Friday off and tried again on Saturday to do three miles with less pain and a 7:34 pace.  I can not say it felt great, but it felt right.

Sunday, however, was the day it starting falling back into place.  And it was at the scene of the awesomeness a week before - Central Park.

Karen and I had stayed over in New York City after attending a preview of the new Broadway musical 'Hands on a Hardbody' (more about that in my next post!), and I was positively excited about running for fun in Central Park.

It was about a mile to the park from the hotel and I took it at a decent pace.  Once on the park road, I was surprised to see so many other runners at 7:00 on a cold Sunday morning (29 degrees, cloudy and windy).

A few minutes later I heard what sounded like a swarm of bees coming up behind me. It was, in fact, a pack of cyclists in a bicycle race that was being held. As they whizzed past me, I was in awe of how fast they went and how close together they rode. Scary.

I decided to go all the way up to the Harlem hills that I heard so much about and we were able to avoid at the race a week earlier (we turned at the 102nd Street transverse).  The hills were not that bad, but the thought of doing them multiple times was not pleasant.

Up that far north, I only saw one other runner. I wished her a good morning and she replied, "Good morning...looks like we're the only two people out here today." I assured her that there were plenty of others, but they were all farther south.  I guess most people avoid those hills, race or otherwise.

Curving around to the west side, I found myself picking up speed in my sixth mile.  The memory of last week was so vivid, I could not wipe the smile off my face.

By the time I got back on the streets, now in my eighth mile, I felt like I could run another marathon. It was the utter joy of running taking over.

One week later in Central Park, I am a new man, yet very much the man I was years ago when discovering distance running for the first time.