Kristy's BQ: Guest Post #2

Since my blog is about to get really same-y in terms of the workouts I do (repeat three or four times per week: "Today I went and did 30 minutes with fast intervals on the recumbent bike"), and since my friend Steve's BQ story remains the single most popular post on this blog, I thought it was time to bring in some more interesting Steve-like people as guest authors.


First up is Kristy, author of Run the Long Road. Her story is one of my favorites because her first marathon, in 2004, was completed in 5 hours 12 minutes. The more she learned about the Boston Marathon, the more she wanted to qualify--but it wasn't until her ninth attempt that she accomplished her goal. In the seven years since her first 26.2, she never gave up.

Here's her story, in her words--for all of you who think you are too slow for Boston:

Anything is possible…if you want it badly enough.

For me, qualifying and running the Boston Marathon have been dreams of mine for the past 10 years.  I’m sure people thought I was crazy talking about BQing when I was still hours (yes, hours) away from my BQ time. But Boston was always in the back of my mind during every marathon.

Here's what my progression looked like:

Marathon #1:  Marine Corps Marathon 2004 – 5:12
My goal was to finish.  I treated this marathon like a party.  I stopped and chatted with (now-husband) Matt, I stopped for pee breaks, I stopped for stretch breaks.  I seriously spent a half-hour stopping.

Marathon #2:  NYC Marathon 2005 –  4:36
A huge improvement but I should have done some hill work.

Marathon #3:  Marine Corps Marathon 2006 –  4:58
I had a terrible training cycle and my head just wasn’t in it.  I was ready to quit at mile 10.

Marathon #4:  Marine Corps Marathon 2007 – 4:11
I love the MCM!  I was finally beginning to make some progress here.   I was ecstatic with this time!

Marathon #5:  Philly Marathon 2008 – 4:12
Oh, I was pissed about this one.  It was 15 degrees at the start…I never warmed up and my lungs burned since I wasn’t acclimated to the cold yet.  Just awful.

2009:  I took a year off marathoning to get married, buy a house, and honeymoon in Europe

Marathon #6:  Pocono Marathon May 2010 – 4:13
I was livid about this race.  It was much hillier than I thought (this is the sole reason why I always train for the worst case scenario).  I hated the marathon and the course.  I had a great training cycle but hit the wall HARD at mile 19.  Up until mile 19, I was on track for a sub-4:00 but I fell apart mentally.  At this point I was SO SICK of finishing in the 4:1x range.

This is what I consider the biggest setback of the process.  It was the 3rd consecutive marathon where I finished in the 4:10ish range.  I was so sick of that finishing time!  I had trained hard and was really hoping for a sub-4:00.  Looking back, I should have incorporated more hill work.  Mentally, I was defeated.  If I couldn't get a sub-4:00, how was I ever going to BQ?  I took a few weeks to reassess my training as I was already registered to run Steamtown in the Fall.  I worked really hard physically but also mentally that summer.    

Marathon #7:  Steamtown Marathon October 2010 – 3:58
Redemption!  My hard work paid off with a 3:58 finish at Steamtown!  Finally, a sub-4:00! After this race, I knew I could BQ!  This was a great marathon too.  Gotta love the downhills.

Marathon #8:  New Jersey Marathon May 2011 – 3:52

Marathon #9:  Lehigh Valley Marathon September 2011 – 3:43
BQ BABY!

She did it!

How did I manage to shave off 30 minutes from May 2010 to September 2011?  Hard work and determination.  I’m not naturally speedy.  I didn’t run track or cross country in high school or college.  I didn’t hit the running genetic jackpot.  I’m just an average runner who dreamed big.  That’s it.  If I can do it, so can you.

Let’s start with the physical part first.

Know what works for you
When I’m coaching someone, I often tell them that I made every mistake in the book so they don’t have to. I really think I did.  Lots of trial and error.  But it made me a smart runner.  I know what my body can handle and what it can’t.  I know which training plans will work for me and which ones won’t.  I know when to back off and rest and when to kick it up a notch.

Listen to your body and keep a training log.  After each training cycle and race, jot down what worked and what didn’t.  Review often and look for any patterns.

Marathon-paced long runs
I love me some marathon-paced (MP) long runs!   I wrote a post explaining my reasoning for not doing long, slow distance (LSD) long runs here.  LSD does not work for me.  I gave it a fair shot.  My coaching certification is through RRCA and they heavily stress LSD long runs for everyone – beginners to elite.  I 100% agree with LSD long runs for beginners who need to build an adequate endurance base.  But, if you have a time goal in mind, you need to incorporate some MP miles into your long runs.  For the simple reason that practice makes perfect.

Speed work (FIRST training plan)
I used the FIRST training plan for my last 2 marathons (with modifications – I added in some easy runs for more mileage).  I definitely credit it with helping me BQ.  Before the NJ Marathon, I went to the track here and there but I wasn’t consistent.  I’ve now been doing speed work consistently and the results are astounding.  My marathon pace dropped significantly.  And I saw results quickly.

Consistency is key here.  Pick a day each week and dedicate it to speed work.  It’s easiest to do on a track but any flat, paved path (free of traffic) will do.  And don’t think you have to run all-out…that is a misnomer. You can do intervals at 10K or half marathon pace.  For my final weeks leading up to the Lehigh Valley Marathon, I kept my intervals at 10K pace because I found myself overstriding (and subsequently hurting my hamstring) when I did intervals at 5K pace.

2-week taper
This training cycle was the first time I experimented with a 2-week taper.  And I will never go back to a 3-week taper again!  For me, it’s more mental than anything.  I had a good 22-miler 2 weeks before the LVM.  The day of the race I kept thinking that all I had to do was repeat the run that I did only 2 weeks before.  It boosted my confidence significantly.

Before you try a 2-week taper, think about how long it takes you to completely recover from a 20 mile run. If it takes awhile, I would err on the side of caution and stick with a 3-week taper.  You don’t want to have any lingering effects of that last 20-miler come race day.

Train for the worst case scenario
I learned this the hard way during the Pocono Marathon.  Know the marathon course.  Look at the elevation profile.  Ask people who ran the race in previous years (sidenote:  take their advice with a grain of salt.  A big hill to some is a little hill to others and vice versa).  If there are small hills, train for big hills.  It will only help you come race day.

Now for the mental part…

Break it up into small chunks
When I started to get closer to my BQ time, I looked at each marathon as a way to inch closer and closer to my ultimate goal.  My goal for Steamtown was to break 4:00 hours.  Then my goal for NJM was to hit 3:50…and finally BQ (3:45) at LVM.  This made it much more manageable and less daunting.

Believe
Such a powerful word.  Believe in yourself AND in your training.  If you think you can, you can.  If you think you can’t, you can’t.

Be present
This tactic worked well for me at LVM.  Instead of thinking ahead to the later miles (i.e., the last 6.2), I forced myself to focus on the current mile and mastering it.  It can get overwhelming to think of how many more miles you have and how you are going to maintain MP, blah, blah, blah.  It’s a vicious cycle of self-doubt.  If you find yourself going down this road, snap out of it (during the LVM I audibly said “stop”) and regain your focus.

Steve's BQ: My First Guest Post

My friend Steve after the 2006 God's Country Marathon in Pennsylvania.

In 2001 and 2002, I lived in Far East Russia teaching English in a small village as a Peace Corps volunteer. The experience was supposed to last another year, but it was cut short when the Russian government refused to renew the visas of most people in my group of volunteers. All that's left me of the experience now are vivid memories, some waning knowledge of the beautiful Russian language, a musty box of papers and photos...and some friends.

One of those friends is a guy named Steve. Steve could always be counted on to provide a sense of humor (sorely needed at times; serving in the Peace Corps is not easy) and good advice (when he and two other awesome friends visited me in my town at one point, he told me to buy a boom box; I had been hesitant to spend the money, but found that having access to my own music all the time really lifted my spirits).

When we all returned to the States, I didn't see Steve again until he came out for my wedding in 2005. And later that year I saw him again. You see, Steve is a runner. Coincidentally, we both ran the New York Marathon that year. Not coincidentally, we met up for a celebratory beer afterwards.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, Steve ran two other marathons in quick succession after that. In February 2006, while back in Colorado Dan and I were beginning to contemplate trying to get pregnant, Steve qualified for Boston. He's now on a course to run 50 marathons in 50 states (here's a map of his progress on that goal). And, in a sweet reversal of roles, I contemplate Boston on a daily basis, while Steve and his wife are about to become parents.

Here in his own words is Steve's take on marathoning--it has everything: pain and suffering, advice, romance, and of course lots of running. A big thanks to him for working so hard on this post!

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I click the bookmark for Terzah’s blog a few times a week because I’m fascinated by natural experiments. I am currently a doctoral student in political science. The science part enters when thinking about and measuring which variables influence the likelihood of a political action—a state passes bill X because of factors Y1 and Y2. Runners likewise focus on those variables that influence our X, our race times. An evil, evil man was right in dividing the world of variables into a set of three: known knowns, known unknowns, and unknown unknowns.

Marathon training plans comprise the known known variables. Each of these controllable Y variables—a better diet, increased miles, speed training, sound sleep—has proved correlated with faster race times. I’ve always wanted Runner’s World to bestow upon a random sampling of average runners all of the vestiges of elites’ training—dieticians, running coaches, the best equipment, massage therapists, and the designated free time to train—to see how much the environmental effects of nurture can close the advantage gap given some by nature. Terzah has thankfully decided to run a scaled-down version of this experiment on a sample size of one.

Runners have less control over the second set of variables, the unknown knowns. We can select marathons with differing field sizes and types of courses and terrain, but the race day weather is not a certainty. Runners of the 2007 Chicago Marathon had probably not trained for an 88 degree, high-humidity, late-October race day.

I give credit to the right alignment of variables in each of these two categories, but I believe one variable in the third set, the unknown unknowns, was responsible for my achieving a Boston Qualifying time at the 2006 Austin Marathon.

Why I (Still) Run
My reasons for continuing running have always centered on the personal. I usually do not train for or run marathons with others. A personal drive sustains my daily running. But the hallmarks of my running career—running my first marathon, getting hooked on running marathons, and qualifying to run the Boston Marathon—have come about in response to others.

I ran my first marathon in 2003. My brother asked me to run the Marine Corps Marathon with him so I could be there when he proposed to his girlfriend. I did, and he did, and she said yes. In spite of that happy occasion, my most enduring memory of that marathon finish is still the barely resistible urge to curl up on the soft lawn of the Iwo Jima Memorial and weep myself to sleep in the warm October sun. I was not hooked. But, a year later, again upon request from a friend, I ran the Chicago Marathon. Having this comparison data point was what hooked me; I needed to see the quantifiable measures of improvement that the race clock provides.

I immersed myself in data, literally running the numbers on my Garmin over the next year. But I soon realized that I did not love running these data, nor do I like to train. There are really only two parts of running marathons that I do enjoy: 1) signing up and 2) finishing. Everything that comes in between those two activities—training, eating better and drinking less beer, scheduling, etc.—aren’t really my thing. But they are prerequisites for the enjoyable parts of running.

To hardwire my brain to understand this connection, I created a reiterative incentive structure by committing to run a marathon in all 50 states and the District of Columbia. This overarching goal has provided the opportunity to sign up for and finish a seemingly endless diversity of races and led to the following wonderful discovery: spacing marathons close enough together both reduces the time between the incentive payoffs of finishing a marathon and signing up for another and eliminates the need to follow the traditional, four-month marathon training regimen. I replaced the four-month training program with the following one-month plan (patent pending).

Week 1: You just ran a marathon. You deserve chicken wings, beer, and a week off.
Week 2: The marathon is in three weeks, better start training! Run 6 miles T Th and 10 on Sunday.
Week 3: Time to taper to preserve glucose blah blah etc. Run 6 miles T Th and 8 Sunday.
Week 4: Don’t want to overdo it. Run 6 miles on T, and a marathon on Sunday.
Rinse and repeat.

Steve in action last month at the Brookings, SD, Marathon.

Most importantly, my race times improved from less training. Following a four-month training plan in preparation for NYC in November 2005 I just missed a PR (3:24.45). I was eager to immediately sign up for another, but was cautious about integrating my new training plan. Two months of training after NYC yielded a PR (3:19.30) at Rock n’ Roll Arizona in January 2006. I proceeded with fully implementing my master marathon training plan, and one month later I was at the starting line of the Austin (TX) Marathon in February. My RnR Arizona finish put me within striking distance of the 3:10 BQ required for my age (29) and gender (M). But, despite being so close, I never really thought that I would cut the last 10 minutes to qualify, particularly since my only mimicry of elite training methods was inclusion of a weekly tempo run.

How I Qualified for Boston
I’ve now run 24 marathons, and I believe I can adequately assess some of the factors that portend success (or failure). Three factors enabled me to BQ at the 2006 Austin Marathon. First, the known known variable, was my training. My innovative (read: lazy) training program ensured that I was prepared, but not overtrained. I had none of the nagging injuries that can result from the traditional four-month marathon training program. The second factor, the unknown known, was the weather. Starting time temperature was 28 degrees, and I am a cold weather runner. The third reason was the unknown unknown factor, and I do not recommend it: I ran that race broken hearted.

I broke up with my long-term girlfriend a few days before the Austin Marathon, but in so doing I realized that she was The One. She, deservedly skeptical of my relationship-deathbed conversion, would not answer my calls. Panicked, I left her a voicemail asking her to meet at a local restaurant next Wednesday at 8pm if she was willing to try again, with the understanding that a no-show would end us. With no idea of whether she would show, and with five more days to mull over the possibilities, I welcomed the marathon’s physical pain as a distraction. I ran the first two-thirds of the race trying to achieve a trance-like state wherein I couldn’t think about the breakup by focusing on the act of running itself, of putting one foot in front of the other. It worked to the extent that I was shocked to be on pace for a BQ at mile 18. Then, as I used the physical pain of the first 18 miles to distract myself from myself, I used my emotional pain to distract from the marathon’s physical pain over the last third.

I do not prescribe a broken heart as a training tool, but I do recommend being prepared to take advantage of whatever conditions race day brings. Take care of your known knowns by finding and personalizing a training program that produces results. Control to your best extent the unknown knowns by picking a race that suits your climatic and course-related needs. Finally, prepare yourself to use as motivation any surprise unknown unknowns. Motivation can spring from the most surprising and even unwanted of places, and it is incumbent upon us to turn that motivation into accomplishment.

Oh, and, my wife gave me plenty of time to sweat it out, walking through the restaurant door that Wednesday night at 8:45.