Marathon mania - It's taper time!

Tick-tick-tick! No, that’s not my biological clock ticking. (That’s another story.) It’s the marathon countdown clock.

My first-ever full marathon is just 10 days away. The longest runs are done. Training tapering is underway. The shorter runs are growing even shorter, and additional rest days await.

That’s sort of a mixed bag for me these days.

I’m finding, like so many active runners, that rest days are hard to take. I’m growing restless. My legs want to move. My muscles want to work. I look forward to the next run, especially when I have to take a day off.

On off days, I usually end up on my bike or in a gym class. I leash up my dogs and go for trail walks. Or I saddle up my horse and ride a few loops. And I still miss running on such days.

That’s the funny thing about running. It’s awfully hard to start. But it’s tough to stop, once we gain the momentum of several months of it.

Gotta do something.

Am I ready for the marathon? I surely hope so. I’ve definitely put in the time and the miles.

Am I jazzed to line up with 55,000 other runners? Holy moley. I can’t even answer that.

And what about that weather report? I’ve looked up race-day forecasts enough times already that I think I ought to receive continuing education credits for meteorology. But it’ll still be a surprise, when the day finally arrives.

Bring it, Chicago.

At this point, I am excited about the race. But I also can hardly wait till it’s done.

Images:

Adapted from public domain image

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Marathon prep: Gotta step past a miserable training run

Stop me, if you’ve heard this one. I had a terrible, horrible, abysmal, no-good, rotten, painful, agonizing, dreadful, nasty, nightmare long training run. And I’ve gotta go do a full marathon soon.

I can hardly wait. But I mostly can’t wait till it’s over.

This marathon (my first) sounded like a super idea last fall, when the race countdown clock read “300 days” to go. Now we’re into the final three weeks before the big day. I don’t exactly have cold feet, even though I’ve had to ice them (along with various other body parts) more than once.

But I am definitely overthinking the whole deal, right about now.

I’ve been using a popular marathon training schedule and marking off miles daily (or pretty much so) on a calendar. About a week and a half ago, I did the second 18-miler in the program. The first one had gone pretty well, a couple of weeks before that. My splits were fairly consistent, averaging about 2.5 minutes per mile slower than my usual 5K pace.

“I can live with that,” I told myself.

Then I did the second 18-miler. It was a disaster.

The day kind of got away from me. I didn’t get out on the open road till afternoon, when the August sun was high and hot. The humidity was agonizing. Summer thunderstorms loomed in the area. An ongoing Achilles tendonitis issue still nagged me.

But the run had to be done, so I filled up my Camelbak and stepped out.

The first few miles were downhill. (We all know what that means.) But by mile 5, I was already sore and sweaty and significantly slower than usual. My guts began cramping around mile 9, even though I was hydrating religiously and nibbling on energy snacks along the way. By the time the rain began falling (around mile 12), I was already soaked and overheated and grateful for the relief. My phone died at mile 15, taking my music with it.

“Can this get any worse?” I moaned.

I crawled into my driveway at 18.1, as the sun disappeared along the horizon.

But my mood was even darker than my neighborhood at that point. I slogged my way into my air-conditioned home, where the drastic temperature change hit me like a truck. Immediately, I dashed for the powder room, where I threw up (from a very empty stomach).

‘Nuff said. (Or maybe too much.) You get the idea. I was miserable.

“How am I gonna do a full 26.2 miles, if 18 just undid me?” I groaned.

OK, it was a terrible training run.

Too bad. So sad.

All runners have horrible runs, once in a while, if we do this thing long enough. And the road to the marathon still beckons.

The final (and longest) long training run awaits. I gotta do a 20-mile run before the pre-race tapering starts in a few days.

“Scratch that bad run,” a veteran marathoner told me. “You punished your body and finished it. Good for you. That’s all that matters. Start fresh with the 20-miler. You can do this.”

Images:

Adapted from public domain photo

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Summer running may include coping with syncope

Coping with heat syncope can cause summer runners to swoon.

What is heat syncope?

It’s the dizziness, light-headedness, fainting, or even blackout that can occur when a person experiences prolonged exposure to extreme heat. Usually, this heat-related illness occurs when the blood vessels dilate to the point at which blood flow to the brain is reduced. Heat syncope is frequently accompanied by a headache and increased pulse rate. Nausea, vomiting, a general confusion, and a panicky restlessness may be evident as well.

Those who exercise or otherwise exert themselves in hot conditions are particularly prone to heat syncope. And it often strikes after an individual rises from a sitting or lying position (especially after exercise) or stands in the hot sun for a long period.

I experienced heat syncope personally after a recent race in the summer sun.

The temperature soared into the 90s (F), and the humidity was high. Despite drinking plenty of water and Gatorade during the double-digit-mile race and eating a chilled banana afterwards (with a cold, wet towel wrapped around my neck), I found myself reeling on the walk to the post-race shuttle bus.

I climbed aboard the non-air-conditioned bus and found a seat. Immediately, the world began to whir inside my own head. My vision grew dark and clouded. My stomach churned. I leaned forward and rested my forehead against the seat in front of me.

That’s all I remember. 

Ten minutes later, the shuttle bus stopped at the remote parking area. I stirred awake, as people around me rose to disembark from the bus.

I staggered to my own car and slumped in the seat for a few minutes, with the air conditioning blasting. I drank an entire bottle of water and crunched a handful of pretzels. Eventually, I regained the wherewithal to pilot my way home.

Not exactly how I intended to finish that race.

Heat syncope is scary, while it’s happening. Sure, I survived. But it was no picnic.

Labor Day Weekend marks the unofficial end of summer for many of us. But the mercury’s still climbing into the stratosphere around here.

How do you deal with heat syncope?

Finding a sheltered or shady space in which to rest and cool off is important. Drinking a cool beverage also helps.

Images:

Adapted from public domain photo

Feel free to follow on GooglePlus and Twitter. Please visit my Amazon author page as well. And I am happy to share my RUNDERDOG ambassador code for 10% off on Bondi Band Athletic Headbands, Accessories, and Fashions. (Simply enter the code at online checkout.).