AEIOU and Sometimes Why

I suspect that most people who finish a marathon and start planning their second (or third, or fourth…) at some point set their sights on running the Boston Marathon.  There’s also a some debate about whether running Boston without qualifying (via charity bib) somehow cheapens the experience.

First of all, let’s dismiss that debate;  If you run a race because you were able to raise $1000s of dollars for a charity, then you have achieved a much more important impact than just qualifying for the race.  I’ve run on a charity bib once and found the experience rewarding, yet more draining than training. Qualifying for Boston helps nobody but you (and the races you helped support along the way).

That being said, I imagine the reward of qualifying for Boston carries a personal sense of accomplishment that is unmatched in the sport for most non-elites.

In my case, I’m definitely non-elite.  I’m in my 40s.  I’ve been running less than 10 years.  I have no real running foundation from my youth.  As posted elsewhere on this blog, I’ve still not crossed the 4-hour barrier in a marathon.

So why even talk about qualifying for Boston?  Well, a funny thing happened to me during my last race.

While the final time was somewhat out of the blue (a full 8-minutes faster than the 1:45 I was aiming for), I specifically changed my training program last year with the goal of getting faster:  More speed drills, more running at pace, more focus on nutrition (and weight loss), fewer running workouts (and more cross training) to ward off injury.  It all seems to have worked.

The trouble is, as recently as a month ago, I had pretty much dismissed the idea of ever qualifying for Boston.  Now I’ve run a sub-BQ pace for a half, so doing that for the full doesn’t seem completely out of the question, right?

[Incidentally, the 2018 BQ pace for me is 3:15, so I’m JUST under the cut for registration…and I know that the actual qualifiers have to run faster than that as they take you in time order, but at least I could apply.]

But how?  Despite the fact that I felt strong at the end and had no ill post-race effects (apart from a bit of GI-related issues…my post-race meal was a bad choice), there’s no way I could have continued at that pace for another 13.1.  I was probably 3-5 miles from cramping up.  Obviously lots of long runs ahead of me, but what else can I do to extend, extend, extend for another 1:37 or so.

What have others tried?  Is it just more of the same for longer, or is there some  change I need to make to keep the trend line rising?  How do I stop my legs from cramping up (the cardio engine is there for me).  Advice sought.  Let me know what worked for you.

Everyone training for a marathon is familiar with the long runs.  (If you don’t, they’re (hopefully) the reason your significant other disappears for 2-3 hours once a morning every weekend.  If that’s NOT the reason, then I’m sorry.  This is a terrible way to find out.)  The long runs are a weird, somewhat counter-intuitive workout, particularly for competitive people.  It defies human logic to train for a ‘race’ by just staying on your feet in motion for hours.  Surely you need to push yourself to get better, right?

Well, that’s not the case.  Post after post after post suggests that the long, slow run is best run S-L-O-W.  And by ‘slow,’ I mean very slow…tortoise slow…mind-numbingly slow.

I’m writing this blog as a form of confession:  I have always run my long runs too fast.

As a frame of reference, my most recent half marathon was run at a 7:25 min/mile pace (approx. 4:35 min/km) suggesting I could finish a marathon in under 4 hours at a stroll and could qualify for Boston if I could extend my half- pace for a full.  The reason I can’t do either at the moment comes down to endurance, which seems to come down to the quality of my long runs.

If you read through the posts above (or any of the 100+ pages that come up in a Google search for “long slow run,” it becomes evident that the science behind long runs being beneficial as a part of marathon training seems pretty much settled.  [Though there are some emerging alternative approaches out there.]  The length of those runs may vary, with some plans recommending runs up to 22-miles in prep, while others say that 18 is sufficient (nobody seems to recommend a full-marathon distance as a build-up to a marathon).  The science also seems settled around building up that distance over 16-20 weeks, with three weeks or so of rising mileage, followed by one ‘break’ week with a shorter long run to recover.

The biggest disagreement seems to circle around how fast to run your 18-22 miles in the build-up, though there is a consensus around SLOW.  The range seems to be anywhere from :30-:90 seconds slower than your race pace) or about 85% of your race pace,  70% off your race pace, to 50%.  This post even suggests just running by feel (using the force?).  I know…not helpful.

To get to the ‘right’ answer, it’s probably important to review the basics: what are the long runs supposed to do and not supposed to do:

In the “Supposed to Do” column: 

• Expand your aerobic foundation so that your body has the lungs to get through a marathon
• Simulate the time on your feet, in motion, to make the marathon seem less shocking to key muscle groups (this avoids cramping)
• Offer a rehearsal of sort to help test what nutrition program works, what shoes and socks feel good afterward, what clothes chafe, etc.

In the “Not Supposed to Do” column:

• Not finish the duration of the long run
• Break down muscle fibre (so you need recovery time days or weeks afterward)

That’s pretty much it. This puts me more and more into the “run by feel” category, but ensuring that I’m going darn slow at the start.  At my pace, I’m going to aim for an 8:45-9:00 pace at the start (first half), then pick up the pace a bit if I feel good.  Even at the faster pace, I won’t get below 8:15.  That’s the aim, anyway.

Of course, proof is on the road.  Went out last weekend for an 18-20-miler (2:45ish total time) and only got through 17 miles before calling it (actually, calling my wife to come fetch me in the minivan).  Too fast.  Darn.  This is harder than it sounds.  I’ll try again next weekend in the last long run before my April marathon.

I’ve posted already about my success in last weekend’s Rock n Roll DC Half-Marathon.  What I haven’t written about is how, one week out, the finish of that race still motivates me to get faster.  I decided to give it a week to see if I was still worked up about it.  It comes as no surprise to anyone who knows me, but I am.

How can I possibly be annoyed after smashing my PB and running a Boston Qualifying time (albeit at the Half)?  Here’s why: (@marathonfoto). (that’s my knee behind him)

[Quick side note:  I’ve had some great in-race photos taken by the good folks at Marathonfoto.  I think it’s a great service they provide and I’m glad that race directors have thought of inviting them out to capture the events.  That being said, their prices are obscene.  I completely agree with Ray Maker’s synopsis here on his DCrainmaker blog.  If there’s ever a race picture of me worthy of $30 or more, my assumption is that it’s in newspapers free of charge because I’ll have either broken some kind of record or committed some kind of crime along the way.]

Yes, despite running a 1:37, what irks me is that I was beat to the line by a hot dog.  A guy in a hot dog costume beat me to the finish.  Now, sure, my ‘net’ time was two minutes faster than his.  I’m sure he’s a lovely bloke. I applaud him running the full distance in a costume–love those folks! I didn’t even mind people yelling “go hot dog” for the last four miles (and I initially didn’t know why people were yelling that at me…hot dog costumes don’t look like much from behind).

What bothers me is that I realized, somewhere toward the end, that he was, in fact, dressed like a hot dog, and, knowing that, I still couldn’t catch him at the line.

I can’t get it out of my head.  I even tried having a hot dog for dinner and it didn’t help.  It’s not happening again.  Hot dog…you’re on notice.  I’m gunning for you.  If I see you at the CoDel Marathon, you’re going down.  I’m running even more miles in training.  I’m picking up my pace.  I’m sprinting the end of my workouts.  All in a quest to catch the hot dog.  Is it sane and rational, no.  Not in the least.

We all need to find motivation somewhere.  After 80 days of consecutive workouts (don’t break the chain!), there are days (many of them) when I get up and just don’t feel like lacing up the trainers and hitting the road.  It’s cold (still!), it’s dark (still!) and I’m tired.  That darn hot dog has kept me going this week.  So in many ways, I’m grateful mr. hot dog.

But that won’t stop me from pushing myself harder and beating you to the line if we ever cross again…maybe dressed like this.

I’ve been running seriously for about 7 years.  Before then, pretty much nothing.  I was somewhat athletic in high school, but never near the top in any of the many sports I played.  In college, I swam for a year for my (D3) school, but soon remembered that the only reason I was ever on a swim team was to play water polo and my college didn’t have that option.

I still remember my first ‘competitive’ race.  It was in 2000: the Spring Valley 5k through the toney neighborhood in Washington DC.  I couldn’t even finish it without stopping to catch my breath.  Literally, I stopped about two miles into a three-mile race to bring my heart-rate down.  I did the St. Patrick’s Day 10k later that Spring, but that was a disaster too and so ended my brief flirtation with running.  Or so I had thought.

Fast forward 10 years.  I was heavy, out of shape, and frustrated with my overall lack of fitness.  I had lost my father a few years earlier, way too young, and was determined to be there for my kids as long as possible.  I started running again.  I discovered adidas’ miCoach platform (since converting to Runtastic), and broke through the agony of my earlier competitive runs.

Yet with the emergence of fitness data and easier recording of your own data–not to mention easier comparison with others–the gulf between my own finish times and those of others was put into clear view.

When you set aside the ‘elite’ runners (a class all their own), there seemed to me to be two categories of recreational runner:  The ‘Runners’ and the ‘Plodders.’  The difference seems stark.  Runners look like they’re running.  They’re pushing themselves with every step and working hard to hit the tape at their desired time.  They have an awareness of the pace and are machine-like in their approach to every mile.

Plodders are trying to just get over the line.  Yes, Plodders care about time too, but Plodders are trying to maintain their training pace throughout the race distance and holding on to the finish.  Avoiding having to walk through part of the race is among the goals.

Since 2010, I’ve been a Plodder and I’ve been resigned to being a Plodder the rest of my life.  “I’m just not physically built for this,” or “it’s not in my DNA to go that fast” have been my common refrains.  There’s a sense that the Runners are the high-school track or cross country stars who are just wired for this stuff and the rest of us are just trying to fill in the race numbers.

Somewhat in an attempt to test this theory, I took most of last year off from distance running.  I ran the London Marathon in April (pretty much without training), and then didn’t run anything longer than a half-marathon the rest of the year.  Instead, I ran a few 10K trail races, and spent a lot of time on the track doing speed work (intervals and 1-hour pace runs).  I guess I felt like I was getting faster, but I wasn’t convinced until I started back into distance training in late-December.

The results have been startling.  My long slow run pace, traditionally in the 9:00-9:15 range, is now comfortably a minute faster.  My pace runs, which were in the 8:00 range per mile, are now in the 7:10-7:20 range.  This weekend, I completed the Rock n’ Roll DC Half-Marathon in 1:37:09, which translates into 7:25/mile pace (and I had to stop to retie a shoelace).  I finished in the top 500 of nearly 13,000 finishers.  It’s a Boston qualifying pace (assuming I could keep it up for another 13+ miles).  It’s the first time I’ve considered myself a member of the Runners group.

Lesson here is that there’s no great divide between the two.  I’m not saying anyone can make the jump, but the jump is there to be made with the right training program, some luck on the injury front, and dedication.

70 degrees on Saturday.  18 degrees on Sunday.  Bright sun, rain, or snow?  Spring races are a real pain to plan for when it comes to attire.  For a point of reference, here’s my local weather so far this month.

82 one day…32 a few days later.  Huge 30-degree swings in a single day.

Workout runs aren’t a huge deal.  At this point, I’m used to wearing layers and usually wear something with pockets so I can stash a hat and some gloves if I get too warm.

Races are a different ballgame.  First of all, there’s a LOT of waiting for the start; lots of time just standing around in the chute with hundreds (thousands?) of your friends shivering.  Then, once the gun goes off, accompanied by the ritual throwing of extra clothes into the people around you.

–public service announcement:  if you plan to discard clothes, trash bags, gel wrappers, water bottles, please start at the sides of the chute so you don’t hit or trip others…thank you.–

About a mile or so in, you’re warm and really wishing you weren’t wearing all those clothes, but you don’t want to weigh yourself down with pockets and sweatshirts tied around your waist.  At the finish, you’re cold again until you can get to your bag (or unless the race has foil blankets).

Here’s my approach.  It’s not perfect.  I’m not comfortable throughout the experience, but it gets me through.

Pre-race (all degrees F):

1. Sweatshirt (with hood if I’m not wearing a hat)*
2. Knit hat (if below 40), cap if above
3. Tights (long if below 35, short/compression if above)
4. Shorts
5. Long sweats (if below about 45)*
6. sleeveless shirt (base layer)
7. short sleeve shirt
8. Long sleeve shirt (lightweight
9. Gloves (if below 40)*
10.  Jacket*
11. Headphones*
12. Shoes and socks and running watch
13. Waistband (w phone, gels)

Starred things go in the checked bag pre-race.  I’m a straggler…I wait until the last possible moment to get rid of those things

So, if you’re doing the math, you’ve figured out that my race wear includes:

1. Knit hat (if below 40)
2. Tights
3. Shorts
4. Sleeveless shirt (base layer)
5. short sleeve shirt
6. Long sleeve shirt
7. Shoes, socks and running watch
8. Waistband (w phone, gels)

If I get warm, I can take the long sleeve shirt off and tie it around my waist.  I can tolerate my hat in my shorts pocket if it gets too hot.  If I’m still warm, I can lose the short-sleeve shirt and tuck it into my waist band.  If the weather turns colder (which HAS happened), I can put stuff back on.

At the finish, I go straight to my bag and get my warmer layers back on.  I sometimes bring a spare shirt or two to throw on after so it’s dry (don’t stand around wet…misery!).

It’s, by no means a perfect routine, but it has gotten me through.  What’s your strategy?

 

 

 

 

I didn’t run much growing up.  I played multiple sports that involved running, and I ran in gym class, but I can’t remember ever going out for a run.  In fact, the first time I remember really going out for a run for fitness was probably in the early 2000s.  Part of the motivation that day was receiving my first iPod–basically a white external, self-powered hard drive with a click-wheel.

In truth, while completely revolutionary, the original iPod wasn’t great for running.  This was before solid state storage was widely available in large storage sizes, and the internal traditional hard drive would skip all the time when I ran.  Still, the promise was there and it got me out the door and out on the road for miles; trying to smooth out my stride with every step to avoid the skipping.

Fast-Forward to 2010 and technology would come into play again.  I was determined to lose weight and regain my overall health.  I was determined to conquer the marathon and was fortunate, part-way through my training plan, to find adidas’ miCoach platform–an app-based training tool available for free on my iPhone 4.

Safe to say, it changed my life.  I became addicted to workout data.  How fast could I go?  How long could I run?  How high a ‘score’ could I get on the incorporated training runs?  How many miles could I run in a month or year?  There’s a rising back-lash against data at the moment, with a new “run by feel” movement starting to gain traction, but for me, the fact that I’ll have a record if I cut my workout short is enough to keep me going day after day.

From that day, I’ve accumulated a number of web sites that are my go-to for running-related data.  Here’s the list.  I’ll add to this as I find new sites that I spend time on.  Feel free to recommend others in the comments section.

Training Tools:

adidas miCoach: This is my anchor.  Still the best training plans and incorporated training/hardware solutions.  Even better, it’s free, it’s easy to use, and it’s really slick.  My training data goes here first before it goes elsewhere.  It’s going away in a year, so if you’re not on, you’ve missed out.  Not sure what my plan is for the EoL of the miCoach environment.

Runtastic: Just started with Runtastic, but I like the data and social elements.  I’ve gotten a few ‘cheers’ on my runs and like the way it presents the data.  It also automatically works with my Withings Body scale, which saves me a manual import step.

Strava:  I’ve started working cycling into my workout routine, and Strava is excellent at capturing bike data (as well as running).  I also like how Strava compares my runs with my own past runs and those of others along the same route.  It’s the only ‘premium’ site I pay for and, though much of it is redundant with Runtastic and miCoach, I find value in having the data tracked here too.  Strava links with the Withings scale too, but it runs through Apple Health and isn’t as seamless as I’d hope.

Zwift: If you have an indoor smart bike trainer and aren’t using Zwift, you’re missing out.  It’s crazy good.  Makes indoor cycling almost as good as outdoor cycling (better than outdoor when it’s freezing cold and dark outside).  Syncs automatically with Strava.

Withings: This is the website, but it’s really the scale and the app.  As a data-freak, I love that I step on the scale and it beams my info (including BMI) to my phone and my other apps.  I’ve never been as in touch (and frustrated) with my weight before, but I guess knowledge is power.

Running Tools

Coolrunning Pace Calculator: It’s really simple, but it’s my go-to calculator, enabling you to put in any two of race times, distances and pace and it calculates the third.  It’s exceptionally handy.

Running for Fitness Calculators:  Another set of calculators with previews of race paces, training zones, weight-impact-on-race-times, etc.  Good stuff.

Timeanddate.com: This isn’t really a running tool, but rather a cool site that allows you to figure out three things critical to any runner’s repertoire:  When will the sun come up/go down so I know if I need to wear lights? What is the time difference between home and the race location so I know how much acclimation time I’ll need to adjust?  How many days/weeks are there until race date?  This is critical for planning out the calendar.

AccuWeather.com: Somewhat self-explanatory.  Will it rain?  I rely on the ‘MinuteCast’ for this, which is pretty reliable (though not 100%).

Others

DC Rainmaker: Ray is the man.  Reviews the latest fitness tech.  Used to live in the DC area, but is now in Paris.  Worth a read before you buy anything.

ahotu Marathons: This is a very comprehensive listing of Marathons, Halfs and Ultras taking place worldwide.  Wonderfully searchable/filterable to find just the race you’re looking for, in just the right place, at just the right time of the year.  Worth registering to help build up this community.  It’s a pretty great resource.

Runners World Magazine: I was on the fence on including this.  First of all, I don’t subscribe (I know, #PressOn).  I find Runners World to be similar to Men’s Health and other faux fitness magazines that tend to cycle through the same six articles in every issue (Tackle your PR!  Recovery Secrets!  Perfect the Pace of your Long Run! Lose Weight by Running! You Need These Stretches!).  It’s basically click-bait for runners.  I DO subscribe to the daily digest, which has interesting stories about inspiring runners around the world.  Their shoe reviews are pretty comprehensive, but I sense a pay-for-play aspect to them (plus, shoes are religion for runners…once a runner finds one they like, they’ll never change).

Montgomery County Road Runners:  This is my local club.  If you run, join your local club.  They host cool events, they help advocate for trails, they help more and more people get off the couch and live more active lives.

I’ve had April 23rd circled on my calendar for a while. Of course, I’ve had January 14, November 11, April 24 and a few other dates marked on my calendar as well in past years. Six marathons in, and I’m still chasing a sub-4:00 marathon finish. I’ve run 4:06 twice, so, the prospects look good, but at this point, it’s still an unhatched egg, not a chicken.

Now, Boston qualifiers might smirk at this as they chase their sub-3:00 dreams, but for most people who have succeeded in completing a marathon and want to get better, sub-4:00 is the next goal. Fewer than 25% of participants worldwide achieve that, which makes it pretty rarified air. I’d like to post a BQ time in my life, but, for now, I’ve got to get a sub-4 under my belt to appease my goal-oriented motivation monster.

For others on the journey, 9:09 or 5:41 should be familiar numbers. Beat those times for 26-straight miles or 42.195-straight kilometers and you’re home. During my miCoach training sessions, I’m routinely around the 8:00-8:15 range (and 8:30 for long runs), so this should be easy, right? So why haven’t I gotten there yet? Seems like there are four things holding me back:

1. Not enough training focus: I’ve run two marathons (Chicago in 2015 and London in 2016) without enough training. Leading up to both, work was in the way and I wasn’t prioritizing my fitness goals enough. Chicago was warm, and I ran out of gas around mile 18. I felt great at London (posting one of my two 4:06 finishes, and having enough energy to attend the FA Cup Semi-Final that afternoon), but was left kicking myself for not training harder.
2. Going out too fast: This has bitten me at three marathons—Marine Corps. In 2010, Rapa Nui (Easter Island, 2014) and Baltimore (2014). The Marine Corps. Marathon was my first, so that can be excused. My Easter Island experience was the victim of overconfidence—a comfortable, blistering first half, followed by agony back up the steep slope of this formerly volcanic island. Baltimore was due to a late arrival (traffic) and needing to catch the back of the pack (I posted a Boston-Qualifying time for the first 8 miles!).   While I look back fondly at all three, my performance was miserable.
3. Poor clock/mileage awareness: I have no excuse for this and hang my head in shame. Armed with my Smart Run, I should know where I am on the clock, where I need to be on the course, and should have been aware of how close I was (Berlin, 2014 and London, 2016—my two 4:06 finishes). Had I realized it, I’m sure that I’d have found those 6 minutes somewhere near the end while my pace and mental stamina were both getting away from me.
4. GI distress: I’ve had to visit the port-a-loo during 4 out of 6 marathons. Not to get too graphic, but there’s a good amount of ‘free’ time available there if I can solve that.

Having talked to lots of other runners, I’ve come to realize that my goal and experiences are not unique. There’s countless “How to run a sub-4 marathon” articles on the Web. I’ve drawn lessons from those that I hope to apply this year, but we all know there’s no formula. My training is going well right now, I’m injury-free (knock, knock), I’ve learned more about my individual pacing and nutritional needs, and I’ve experienced enough marathons over the past seven years to be able to visualize each phase of the race.

The idea here is not to create another “how to beat sub-4” article—heck, I’ve never run one, so who am I to advise others. What I’d like to do is build an energized community among others with this same goal. Why is this so important to us? Have you tried before and not made it? What are you doing differently this time around? I’ll do the same and we can cheer each other along and come back and compare notes. At the end, I’d like to host a virtual celebration for all of us as we slay this dragon.

Join the journey to sub-4 land. Participate in the discussion, and, if you’d like, feel free to follow my experiences @spencerhollis on Twitter or @SHoTime on miCoach.   You can even race the clock with me in person at the Delaware Coastal Running Festival on April 23, when (I hope!) my 4:00 barrier will fall. #energyrunseverything #sub4dreams

I read a Twitter-linked article from the Virgin London Marathon suggesting ways to stay motivated.  Here are some additional tried and true tips that have worked for me:

1. Get out early:  The longer I go in the morning between waking up and getting out the door, the more excuses I can come up with.  I’m tired, I can’t find my headlamp, I have work to do, I need a cup of coffee…  Key here is to get everything ready to go before I go to sleep, get dressed in my running gear right away and get outside before my body and brain have a chance to process what’s going on.  It seems silly, but it works.  If I sit in front of the computer with a cup of tea or coffee, I’m toast.
2. Only commit to a mile:  On days I don’t feel like running, I just commit to running one mile.  If, after a mile, I feel like packing it up and heading home, I have given myself the leeway to do that.  I’ve only actually stopped once.  The other times, I either start to feel better as I get closer to that milestone or I’ve convinced myself that “I’ve already come this far, might as well finish up.”
3. Rock the playlist:  I’m a solitary runner, but I need the playlist.  Even with hundreds of songs on my wrist, it does get old after a while.  I mix up the list every few weeks and find that key start-up song that gets me going.  That song starts before my first step. Works nearly every time.
4. Be public:  Post your goals.  Post your workout schedule for the week.  Post your race target.  Public shaming works.  Use it to your advantage.
5. Set two or three different goals:  While goal-setting is on the VLM list, I always have two (or three) goals running at any one time.  One is always the target marathon time; that’s the long-term one.  I also aim for a certain mileage per month–currently 100-110 miles on the road and 200 miles on the bike.  Finally, I have a streak going of 42 straight days of working out.  My goal is 100–pretty much taking me to my next Marathon in April.  I DO NOT WANT TO BREAK THIS STREAK.  It keeps me going.

Where will I be on March 14, 2020?  I have no idea.  Yet I need to know in the next few weeks.  Not only that, I need to know that I’ll have $2000 available to travel, that I’ll have the time off of work, and that I’ll be in the physical shape to run a marathon.

Booking a spot in the Antarctica Marathon is an extreme example, but planning a race schedule is both a thrill and a challenge for the active runner.  There are so many factors to consider–including qualifying times and lottery probabilities–that it can make your head spin.

For first-time runners, I recommend simplifying the process:  Pick one race, 6-months or more out, that you want to target, figure out when the registration opens and start a training plan.  Find a local half-marathon that’s scheduled for a month or so before the marathon to get the race experience under your belt and be done.  Three other considerations:

1. Pick a race that offers deferment or transfers.  Particularly for your first race, you never know how you’ll feel and first-time runners often get injured.  Deferment allows you to push your registration to next year and transferring will allow you to recover some of the cost of the race.  You’ll still be out some money, but it’s like insurance, saving you from some of the loss.
2. If the race has a lottery-based entry system (London, Marine Corps, NYC, etc.), either find a backup race (something without a lottery and a registration that stays open until a few weeks before the race) or decide to run for one of the official charities that offer entry with some minimum fundraising amount.
3. Pick something close to home.  It’s a great feeling to finish your first marathon, so it’s best to do it with your friends and family cheering you on and celebrating your accomplishment.  Also, the thought of getting on a plane the day after a first marathon seems like absolute torture.

For more experienced runners, the challenge gets harder.  Most of the active runners I know try to book races that complete a set.  For example, I have a few friends who are gunning to run a marathon in all 50 States.  I’m trying to run one on every continent.  Others try to complete all of the “majors.”  It’s helpful to gain focus during the planning, but for most runners, it doesn’t dictate the entire calendar.

I start with an 18-month plan.  I once built one-year plans, but I ended up missing the registration for early-year races.  The plan includes what I expect from my fitness and what races might match that ambition.  For example, I’m coming out of an 18-month period where ‘speed’ was my focus.  I didn’t want to lose the endurance I’ve built up over the years, but wanted to focus more on my pace than my distance.  My race program included only one marathon per year (Chicago in 2015 and London in 2016), accompanied by about 12 half-marathons, and my first 10k trail series.

For the next 18 months, the goal is to apply that speed training to a longer distance.  I’m targeting 2-3 Marathons per year (including, maybe, an ultra) with more casual halfs thrown in as I feel like it.  The Marathons require the most planning (and require genuine recovery), so I keep a three-year log of the races I’m interested in (with registration dates as well as race dates) and work around that.  I also like to do one foreign travel marathon per year, so those are the anchors that the rest of my race calendar gets wrapped around.

The biggest challenge for me is the lottery entries.  If I do another charity run, I’m saving it for Boston, for which qualifying looks like a pipe-dream.   Most of the lotteries make you wait months to find out if you’re in or not.  By that time, most of the other entries for the premier races have closed.  Two years ago, I signed up for both NYC and Chicago (both lotteries) and hoped I’d get into one of them (both have deferral programs).  I didn’t get lucky for New York, but Chicago came through, so the plan worked.  This year, I’m trying again for NYC (third time the charm?), but also trying to find some smaller races with later registration dates as a back-up.