Welcome

Welcome. I am the author of Universal Time, a sci-fi urban comedy;
Beaufort 1849, an historical novel set in antebellum South Carolina;
and In the Land of Porcelain, an urban comedy set in present-day San Francisco.

Thursday, May 9, 2024

Nine Life Lessons from Marathon Training as an Older Runner

 


When I was seventeen, I ran the Seattle Marathon following my senior year of cross-country. I figured I was in the best shape of my life and this was the time to give a marathon a try. I then largely retired from running, just occasionally trotting a few miles to keep in some kind of shape. In 2018 and 2019 when I saw coverage of the New York City Marathon that goes through all five boroughs, I thought “that looks so cool,” but being in my late fifties, I put it down as out of the question. In 2020 the NYC marathon was cancelled due to COVID. When it ran again in 2021, something in me said, “I want to do that.” My son lived in Manhattan, I’d been there many times and also visited Brooklyn and the Bronx, but I’d never stepped foot in Queens or Staten Island. And all the crowds and energy of the event—something called.

Getting into the race was complex as I didn’t get selected in the lottery for the 2022 race but instead got a slot for the 2023 race if I ran a marathon in November of 2022 anywhere of my choosing. So I trained and trained, designed and ran my own marathon as directed, and then ran the New York City marathon in 2023. And then my daughter talked me into running the Colorado Marathon a week ago. With four lifetime marathons under my belt, I am now done. But the wisdom I gained is applicable to many things.

1.     Attitude matters. On training runs, getting out the door is half the battle, but if you go out with the attitude, “this is awful, why am I doing it, I feel terrible, etc.” you will be miserable. If you go out with the attitude “I get to run today! Once I get going, I’m going to feel great,” you’ll have a much better experience. Even better if you can smile and nod at people rather than grimace and show suffering. You may scoff, but transmitting well-being and positive vibes in your neighborhood has a ripple effect. You will cover many miles as you run. You can be a force for grouchiness or a force for cheeriness, your choice.

2.     Know your why. This may seem obvious, but why are you running? What do you hope to get out of it? A slimmer body? A feeling of mastery? Bragging rights? Stress release? Maybe you want to improve bone density, lower your blood pressure, stave off diabetes, and increase the likelihood of a long, healthy life. Because someone else thinks you should is a very weak why. Because other people might admire you is another why that will fade when the going gets tough. If you’re clear on your why, a lot of other stuff falls into place.

3.     Don’t compare yourself to others. When I started training, most runners were faster than me. Some were way faster. Gradually I improved until some runners were slower than me. But getting caught up in comparisons is a bad mental trap. The person sprinting by me might only have time for a 2-mile workout while I’m out on a 10-mile run. Someone going slowly might be on a recovery run or doing low-heartrate training. Another might’ve just finished with chemotherapy and it’s their first time back in their running shoes. You just don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Everyone is out getting exercise in the fresh air, and it’s wonderful whatever their pace.

4.     The natural world matters. I’m not a fan of running in heat or in the rain, but it takes many months to train for a marathon, so you’re bound to hit unpleasant weather now and again. Train anyway. Altitude matters. The elevation of the Colorado Marathon that started at 6500 feet kicked my butt because I’d trained almost entirely at sea level. So it goes. Air quality matters. During the fires in California a couple years back the air was so bad I couldn’t leave the house. I got a treadmill that I will use under duress, but breathable air is fundamental to existence, and I’m not sure why we don’t all take it more seriously. The most important thing about the natural world is that it’s wonderful! I live in San Francisco, and it’s 1.5 miles from my front door to the Panhandle. On the way I have to deal with traffic, uneven sidewalks, and stoplights. But once I get to the path that winds through 100-year-old trees, life is good. A couple more stoplights and I’m in Golden Gate Park where I can run miles surrounded by flora and fauna and shade and birdsong and no cars. (Numerous public bathrooms are a big plus.) Being out in nature is soothing and energizing and a reward in and of itself. Everyone should have access to large stretches of nature. It should be a basic human right.

5.     What you ingest matters. Your body is made up of what you feed it. Things that are toxic really do affect it. Gradually over the years I’ve shed many things from my diet: high fructose corn syrup, corporate fast food, corporate highly processed carbs, alcohol, most sugar, and, recently, seed oils. What’s left to eat, you might ask? All sorts of delicious things that don’t have to cost that much or take long to prepare. YMMV, but I eat dairy, vegetables, some meat, some complex carbs, and I drink a lot of tea. I also occasionally indulge in street tacos and bread from small bakeries. When I upped my mileage, I upped my protein intake with more eggs per week. I did have to add a banana in the mornings before long runs. Eating this way my body feels great. My inflammation levels are low, and my energy levels are high. I take some supplements, but no medications. If you’re strong, young, and fit, you can probably get by with some toxicity now and again, but the older you get, the more this stuff matters. The other thing I’ll point out is that since muscle weighs more than fat, when you start to get in shape you’ll likely lose inches more quickly than weight, but that’s okay, because your waistline is far more important to your health anyway.

6.     Honor who you are, your body, and your limits. I like running alone at my own pace, listening to my music, being with my thoughts. My daughter really likes running with other people. Neither is better or worse; our preferences are intrinsic to who we are. Silly not to know how you’re wired and honor that. Same with your body. If you listen to it, it’ll tell you all sorts of things, but since most of us are disconnected from our bodies, it can take a while to learn the language. My tai chi teacher once said, “There's the pain of injury and the pain of change. Learn to know the difference.” I would add that there is pain to ignore and pain to pay attention to. Pretty much every runner will tell you the first mile never feels good. During that mile I often get fleeting pain in my knees, hips or muscles. 99% of the time these things go away. When pain is stabbing or doesn’t go away, it’s time to pay attention, maybe even stop. If you train incrementally and only gradually increase miles/intensity, this kind of pain is less likely to occur. But when it does, you have to deal with it, even if it means you have to take a week or two off. Appreciate your body; thank it. It’s a wonderful gift, a highly advanced piece of biochemical machinery that’s yours for life. Never deride it or shame it. It hears what you say. Lastly, limits. As you get in shape, your limits will expand, but they will still be there. If you’re over 40 and not Kenyan, you are unlikely to ever win a major marathon. That’s okay. Know your why. I started training for the NYC marathon to challenge my body and have a certain experience. Though I would’ve liked to have run a Boston Marathon qualifying time for my age group, I never quite managed it. If I’d trained 50 miles a week instead of 40, maybe I could’ve achieved it, but I had my limits. And the Boston Marathon was never my why. I achieved my why and I’m satisfied.

7.     Good tech can help. When I was in high school, I was thrilled to have a pair of Nike trainers with waffle bottoms. The other “tech” assistance I had was heavy cotton sweats, t-shirts, and water from drinking fountains. I seriously didn’t even own a water bottle. Now I have a fitness watch, headphones, a great running playlist, a cheststrap for low-heartrate training, gels, a hydration backpack, lycra leggings, great shoes with inserts, good sports bras, a waistpack, a variety of running shirts suited to different conditions, sunglasses, visors, and four different kinds of electrolyte mixes I like. Whew! All this stuff does help (especially the music.) But in the end, you still have to run the miles.

8.     Small increments are powerful. Training for a marathon is a long road. I started out running 9 miles a week and over the course of 6 months worked up to 40 miles a week. With enough time, dedication, and small increments, you can do things you might not believe possible. Increments are important in other ways. We create our bodies and our lives one bite, one step, and one thought at a time. Yes, a doughnut here, a grouchy thought there, or even a skipped training run is not going to make much difference. But a pattern of them sure will. It’s the pattern that counts. The good news is that in every moment you can start afresh. Your point of power is now, going forward. One step, one bite, one thought at a time.

9.     Find the joy. This was a tip from an ultra-marathoner. A good attitude and knowing your why are important, but there’s even a deeper level to obtain. If running makes you miserable, don’t do it: find some other way to achieve your why. But even being so-so about your training is a waste of time because, like almost everything, if you dig deep enough, there is joy to be found in tackling a marathon. It may be from your body when you can stride along without gasping for air. It may be from birdsong in the morning hours, the aromatic fresh air, or the sunset that closes down the evening. It may be from waving at a small child on your run or greeting a tree friend. Whatever it is, find it. We are all responsible for our own joy. No one can give it to you. But it will be there if you seek it. Find the joy.