There are several prominent factors that attributed to my ability to not only qualify for Boston with a substantial 10 minute buffer (and a 33 minute PR), but to also run Boston eight months later with another seven minute PR, and a time of 3:18. While conditions were not favorable at Boston (the heat over the first half triggering the use of valuable stores of resources that I was unable to then leverage in the in back half), the preparation I had done was enough to push through that 3:20 barrier regardless. It comes down to one word to describe this year of my life - consumed by qualifying for and subsequently running Boston: discipline. It started months before my training block for the Santa Rosa Marathon began. I wrote an article about it here. I needed to overhaul my lifestyle. To develop habits that would help me reach my goals:
qualifying I started my training with a 45 mile week and built from there. I ran a tempo of increasing distance every week, incorporated a speed workout every other week, and started my long runs at 14 miles - I would eventually build to a 20 and 22 miler. Aside from these set workouts and distances, I was free to run the rest of the weekly mileage in any way that worked for me. This plan allowed me to be flexible with my work and travel schedule and take more responsibility for my own training. While my initial training plan had me peaking at 70 miles, it became apparent that my body wasn't ready to handle this running volume. I worked with my coach and we adjusted each week down 5 miles to peak at 65. This combination of workouts and miles worked, my speed started to improve quickly and drastically. I broke my long standing 1:49 half marathon time by 7.5 minutes a mere 3 weeks into training, followed by a sub 1:40 only 3 weeks later and a 1:37 during peak training week. It felt like overnight this just happened. But it was really the combination of months of hard work. That seems to be the way it works. The elation that you feel when you start to achieve goals makes anything leading up feel insignificant. It's a shame really - as the joy really is in the journey. Those hundreds (upon hundreds) of laps you run at tempo pace, week after week, with no one cheering you on - no one pushing you out of bed to make it happen - fueled by your own determination - that's when you know you've found something you love. Something that's worth the discipline. I knew toeing the line in Santa Rosa that I would be qualifying for Boston that day. I had done the work necessary to get me to this point and now I just needed to run a smart race. The race was the reward for the hard work I put in - it's the beautifully wrapped gift that I get to unwrap, mile by mile. For 16 miles, I stayed in the 3:23 pacing pack. I lost them by mile 18. Mile 25 was rough. I literally talked to myself at this point. Out loud. "Eliza, pull your shit together." It was my slowest mile - and I even let the thought cross my mind: I could walk, slowly even, the rest of this race and still qualify for Boston. Of course I didn't, settling for a BQ was not the plan, earning every single second under that goal time was. I pulled it together, picked up the pace, and sprinted that last 0.2 to the finish. "downtime" Immediately after finishing the race, I told my coach/best friend/maid-of-honor that I wanted to break 3:20 at Boston. I was literally still dripping sweat, standing feet from the finish of this race that I worked so hard to run so well, and all I could think about was how to improve. I didn't slow down. After the four days of coach-ordered, no running rest, I was back at it. And within two weeks I was training for a half marathon, targeting a 1:35. And that's when injury hit, hard and fast. I was with a running meet up group, running over the Fort Mason hill in San Francisco. Not a huge hill, in terms of the SF terrain, but big enough to scare you and make you work to get to the top. I reached the top without slowing my pace, talking to the person I was running with - when I suddenly had a stabbing pain on the inside of my left knee. It was enough to make me stop, walk and stretch. I tried to run on it again. There was no way. I hopped in an Uber and rested for three full days. It felt decent enough to run on it after that and I made it to the Healdsburg Half Marathon a few weeks later with only a dull ache left in the place of the stabbing pain. I ran that 1:35 PR race. Fast forward to mid-November when a jump-squat became the final move that demanded I pay more attention to my injured knee. Turns out I had a slight tear in my MCL and scheduled a Prolotherapy treatment for the end of November. These injections are unpleasant and required I stay off my feet for a day, so I chose this time to do my first ever juice cleanse. Over 5 days I was reminded of the restorative benefits of a clean, vegan diet and I decided that I would make some changes to my lifestyle in terms of food when I started training for Boston. Within a week of Prolo, I ran a 5K at a 6:35 pace. I continued to rehab the injury - still running, but cutting out any fitness involving a lunge or squat motion that caused the pain. After weeks of PT and Chiro care, I ran my final race of the year: a half marathon on Christmas day. And I won it. With a 1:33, I was the first woman by a 15 minute margin. This time between qualifying for Boston and beginning the training block to run Boston was crucial in building my confidence and speed. I wanted that sub-3:20 and knew another PR, especially on that hard course would not be easy. It would take dedication paired with a very strong base fitness level. boston I don't think I will have a more perfect training block than I did in the 15 weeks I spent preparing to run Boston. My coach changed up my training plan slightly - I would now incorporate a speed workout every week in addition to my weekly tempo and long run. The rest of the miles were still up to me. She kept my weekly mileage the same as what it was intended to be when I started training for Santa Rosa - this time, I was ready for that volume. And I hit that mileage goal, every single week. I ran every workout - in distance and speed - as planned. I cut meat and dairy out of my diet completely. I kept eggs and lean seafood an option. This option was necessary due to how much I traveled during those 15 weeks of training. Clean, purely vegan, food is not always available if you also need to be concerned about the right balance of protein, carbs and nutrient dense vegetables. I recovered from workouts quickly due to this clean food approach and kept up with light, upper body workouts and yoga. Pain was minimal and my injured knee felt like a distant memory. I also cut out beer. Not all alcohol because wine (and social life). As much as I do love a good, flavorful craft beer, the affect even a pint had on me the next day wasn't worth it. I'm not sure if it's the gluten, the high alcohol content or something else that doesn't sit well with my stomach but it made me feel sluggish and weirdly dehydrated. (Even with my 100+ ounces of water each day.) I still don't have an issue with red wine, however, and often have a glass with dinner. (Okay maybe two glasses, because seriously, corking is for quitters and if Erik and I open a bottle, we're going to finish it.) The travel I did during this time of intense training was no joke. I lived in San Francisco and over 15 weeks I traveled to Washington DC for two different weekends, NYC for a week, Florida for a week, the midwest (Chicago and Madison) for the weekend and Scandinavia over nine days (where I had to run 80 miles!). And yet I stuck to my training plan. Ran every workout. Hit all 720+ miles of prescribed training, maintained a clean diet and toed the line at Boston, injury free. And the rest I recapped above. It was a hard course. It wasn't ideal conditions. But I had no excuses and left nothing behind. The Newton hills were tough, heartbreak hill is definitely a hill that slows you down, and bouncing back from the first downhill half is torturous on the quads (probably something that isn't talked about enough in terms of preparing for the race). I was spent by the last three miles and my legs decided an 8 minute pace was all they could offer. I was okay with this because it gave me a few extra seconds to soak in the fact that I was finishing the Boston Marathon. discipline I used this same mindset to train for a half marathon 7 weeks after Boston - winning it, breaking that 1:30 barrier (for a total of a 20 minute improvement over the course of a year). Now I know what works. I know what it takes to run at a competitive level: discipline. While my genes provide me a decent base for athleticism - I am not a naturally fast runner. Every second faster I run each mile is fought for, hard. I need to make training a priority if I want to keep improving.
And I need to be okay with running races for fun and the experience if I don't have the discipline during a specific block of training to put in the effort I know is necessary to run my best race. I'm only excited to continue to adjust my training, diet and level of dedication to particular races and distances to see what more I have in me. Nothing is set in stone - it's a journey that I'm figuring out, mile by mile.
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AuthorA Midwest girl gone global. I choose happiness everyday: I run, eat well, travel, and love completely. Archives
March 2022
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