The Long, Hard Road to Recovery Sunday, Nov 9 2008

(This was meant to have been written quite some time – 2 weeks – ago but I got lazy.)

Post-marathon recovery is something different.

After my past two marathons (both in Singapore), I had taken a vacation in cold Canada and done nothing except feast – quite often on junk food.  I was keeping myself warm, I rationalised.  It was Christmas and I had made these really nice buttery brussel sprouts with chestnuts. It was too hard to walk on the black ice down the steep slope to the grocery store, much less contemplate running.

I took the experts’ advice to “rest” for 26 or 42 days (depending on whom you speak to) quite literally, put my feet up, and didn’t look back.

This time, I came back feeling good. I barely hurt, even after sitting mostly still for the 20+ hour flight back home. I felt ready for the next race I was running – barely 7 days after the marathon (a cross-terrain 10K on 19 Oct). I had been exhilarated, rather than depleted, by my experience in Chicago.

But when I started running 4 days after the marathon – a short 5K or so, which had felt like a breeze when I did it as a warm-up run the day before the marathon – my legs felt a little like… lead. My heart pounded uncomfortably fast, and I couldn’t contemplate going any further.

This failure of imagination was what threw me off during the post-marathon period. Again, it seemed impossible that prior to the marathon, one had thought nothing of doing a 20K (12mile) “medium” run in the middle of the week, and that after the marathon, the same distance seemed nearly insurmountable. Or rather, I had thought it didn’t, but changed my mind rapidly when I panted and ploughed my way through various short runs throughout the week – doing OK for the 10K race on Sunday, but teetering on the verge of dehydration the whole time.

Strangely, I now prefer to run in the mornings, before my mind is fully conscious, so I can trick it into some exercise before the “exigencies of work” and the pull of dinners with friends let it slide into a catatonic heap by the end of the day.

Worst of all, I feel heavy all the time as I now consume the same amount of food I did pre-marathon, without the corresponding mileage to take it off me.

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5 Textbook Ways to Finish a Marathon Saturday, Oct 18 2008

1. Carbo-load. Eat a lot of good carbs (pasta, fruit and vegetables, bread) beginning 2-3 days before the marathon. On the morning itself, try to eat food that won’t upset your stomach – carbs are also good for that.

My carb-count: 3/4 of a mac n cheese dish from a “Greek-American” homestyle restaurant, 3 slices of Lou Malnati’s deep-dish “Lou” pizza with buttercrust [medium], 2 bites of a Dunkin Donut, duck fat fries from Hot Doug’s, French toast with pineapple and blueberries at M Henry, 4-5 bananas, potatoes stolen off Kathy’s egg sandwich dish, a huge bowl of homecooked pasta with tomato sauce at a couchsurfing friend’s place, 1 powerbar. (Breakfast on the morning of the race = 2 bananas and 1 powerbar. No water 2 hrs before the race because I hate the thought of having to use the port-a-potty during a race, though I almost always have to use one right before.)

2. Wear the stuff you’ve always worn – no new shirt, sports bra (women, please wear one!), underwear, shorts, socks, shoes, even a watch. You never know when and where the dreaded chafing will occur, or if you’ll get blisters.

My outfit: I wore my free orange Mizuno sleeveless running top, large and comfortable FBT shorts, cheap running socks, ankle guard, and Asics 2130 (with about 250K already on them). This was what I wore for every long run. I had been worried about the weather being too cold, but in fact, it was just a little too warm (beyond ideal conditions for a marathon, though not for a Singaporean!).

3. Hydrate and fuel yourself during the race – Running through aid stations for a 42.195K race is sheer folly. Drinking only water, though, may kill you, so there’s a need to alternate between sports drinks and water. After 30K, you tend to “bonk” as well, so supplements (powergels, bananas) are essential.

Food and liquids I took during the run: 3 Gu gels, spread out over approximately 6-mile intervals; one-third of a banana; several sips of water and Gatorade from approximately 10-12 aid stations (I walked to avoid spilling them). I also snatched a cup of water from a spectator whom I think hadn’t planned on giving it to me… and dunked it over myself to cool myself down!

4. Play mind games – Break it down by miles instead of kilometres if it helps (there’re fewer miles than there are kilometres in a marathon!), or keep a keen lookout for the next aid station. Survey the signs that spectators have made for their family and friends, and the funny t-shirts that runners wear (“I paid for this?!?”)

My thoughts wavered between all of the above. I also spent 4-5 miles dwelling on my guilt about the woman I stole water from (see para 3). I never run with a music player so I had no problem keeping myself entertained without one (technically, music players are banned during the Chicago Marathon, but I saw many people running with one!). Also, someone was singing “Dancing Queen” on a really loud sound system early on, and some guy in Chinatown yelled, “Go Asian lady!”, both of which kept me amused for some time.

5. Finally, Train Hard – Respect the distance. Do at least 1 long run (19-20miles, or 30-32km) at least 2-3 weeks before the race.

My training was not too hard this year compared to that for my previous marathon, which consisted of more speedwork, especially long tempo runs. However, I definitely stepped up the distance this time, and I think I rocked my schedule despite my new work situation, which necessitated me leaving for work at about 8am and returning sometimes only at 8 or 9pm. I ran almost every single opportunity I got and if I missed a run, I made up for it, sometimes at 5.30am or 10.30pm.

It’s always a miracle when you taper and run next to nothing for the last 2 weeks prior to the marathon, and yet make the full distance on the day itself – it’s the power of commitment!

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Running off a Jetlag Tuesday, Sep 30 2008

Jetlagged these past couple of days – I always get it worse coming to this other side of the world, and almost never (touch wood) going back the other way.  The dry air didn’t help my general state of health, and tapering for the marathon seemed to worsen it – the body wasn’t used to lying still and resting and I’ve been lying awake at night thinking way too hard of relaxing my fingers and toes one by one as a means of dropping off to sleep, as they taught us in yoga.

I finally got a run in today.  It was a sunny day in interior northern British Columbia, which I have visited many times, but where I have never run – slightly under 20 degrees celsius, with a surprisingly hot dry sun and a cool breeze that made my nose run too (ha ha).  The area is very hilly but cresting the slopes, I was always rewarded by a view of the autumnal mountain range across the lake.  I probably need this form of hill training too; I’ve been too spoiled by the gentle inclines in Singapore, the worst only being the manmade overhead bridge that spans the Pan Island Expressway.
 
I’m glad I didn’t choose, after all, to run the marathon at the beginning of my trip to North America – I cannot imagine how the legs, heavy as lead after a long plane ride, and the mind, dazed and confused after radical time-zone changes, would have coped.

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Endorphins Friday, Aug 29 2008

Sometimes after I run, and stop at the void deck to touch my toes and stretch, I remember part of a film I once watched – a teenage girl and boy not-quite-couple (both beautiful, long-limbed and somewhat blond) running along on the beach, then flopping down and laughing, the girl saying, “They call it endorphins!”

On my not-quite-stretch-of-a-beach, I know exactly what she’s talking about.

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Hawker Food on a Rainy Weekend Sunday, Aug 24 2008

It’s been raining the entire weekend – not the usual sudden thunderstorms that blow over in less than an hour, leaving the ground shining under the blazing sun after, but rain that falls in moderate yet relentless sheets. The skies remain grey the entire day; we have to turn on the light if we want to do some serious reading.

I gave up on running yesterday evening, even when the rain slowed to a drizzle. The path was too slick, and my running gait always ensures that I get the most amount of wet gunk on my calves and even on the back of my thighs when I run in wet weather (this is a conclusion reached through scientific observation… or rather, a comparison of my legs with other runners’ when they run in the rain as well!). Besides the usual mud and water, it’s not unusual for me to find leaves and twigs stuck to my limbs at the end of a wet run. I think I might have turned up a critter or two before as well.

So… instead of venturing out for what was actually a much-needed run, I decided to call up the soon-to-close hokkien mee stall at East Coast Road, and pre-order some warm, gooey hokkien mee for dinner. This was my second time eating it this week – I had only recently discovered it (too late) through my friend at work, and ieat!

The business is a truly impressive one, with at least four persons helping to collate orders on both the phone and from customers who had dropped in. There were at least 6-8 other people standing around waiting for their orders when I arrived, yet much to my surprise, the ladies at the stall were uncannily able to identify me immediately by my order, despite only having heard me on the phone!

The uncle was frying away furiously, blinking rapidly in the smoke and heat of his small kitchen, visible to us all. He turned out huge batches of thick noodles at once, shoving as much as possible onto a plate with his spatula. A girl standing next to him distributed the portions of each plate evenly onto takeout wrappers and secured the packages neatly with a rubber band each. Finally, the deal was sealed with the addition of a packet of pounded chilli and some limes in the red plastic bag.

The vibrant smells and bustle of the little coffeeshop stayed with me as I gingerly tread through the wet pavements to where my mother sat waiting, down in one of the little residential streets nearby.

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Running Saturday, Aug 9 2008

Ever since I sprained my right ankle on July 29 (while running fast at night in the park, tripping over nothing), I’ve run but twice. I ran both times with an ankle guard (S$21.80) and not-so-faint twitches of impending misalignment on the inside of my ankle. I’ve had difficulty walking even in slight heels – or rather, I can walk fine in them, but start feeling the strain after more than 10mins. And in the meantime I’ve broken the thong-strap on my only functional pair of presentable slippers, which I wear to travel to and from work – this happened when the train stopped suddenly and I prevented myself from falling and possibly spraining my other foot (which thankfully my weight was on, and which I was thrown in the direction of) by deliberately turning it with great force on its side.

While everything has been slightly frustrating, I accepted the fact of the sprain philosophically. I had been peaking in my marathon training quite early, hoping to build a strong base, and get in up to 6 (!) runs of over 30K each over the course of my training (I was at 28.7K before I sprained my ankle). The more one trains, the more likely one will get injured, and especially in August, 2 months before the Chicago Marathon (which I am running), says my marathon guru, Hal Higdon.

I had also been too complacent in my personal relations, and in fact, had been thinking some cold thoughts right before I fell.

In addition, a few days before my run, I had been quite mean to some service staff in a restaurant, because they had bungled my order and did not handle my query well. I felt sorry immediately after but found no suitable way to apologise to the maligned lady (who had been the messenger of the mess-up, not the actual bungler herself).

I believe, in short, in retribution. And while it’s been most difficult for me not to run – to feel my carefully-attained fitness erode and my thighs turn into jelly; to watch runners take advantage of warm sunsets to run by the reservoir; to feel lethargic; and to feel my confidence about completing my October marathon within a good timing drain away – I also feel that I had had it coming to me. This enforced period of “rest” actually benefited me in other ways as well, forcing me to be less exacting on other people (since I could no longer be as exacting on myself) and… um…

I don’t really know what else, as inertia kind of blows.

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Runspirator Sunday, Jun 1 2008

Last night, Mom, Sis, Sis’ boyfriend and I went to the park downstairs in our ratty old t-shirts and shorts at 1.30AM. We were supporting random people at Singapore’s first midnight marathon.

We had two bunches of bananas. I thought that we would never manage to give all of them out. The bulk of the non-elite runners who came through between 2-2.15AM took them all. Mom was overjoyed.

Before the banana bonanza, we had seen the first marathoner run past, all limbs. A cyclist was puffing away in front of him, clearing his path for him and lighting the way. He was probably doing 18-19KM/hr.

Our hands hurt from the clapping, and we couldn’t think of many things to say to cheer them on – especially those who had slowed to a walk and looked awfully exhausted. But the good humour of some kept us going too. A selection of responses:-

“Don’t you guys have to sleep?”
“I LIVE HERE TOO!”
(in Chinese) “I have no ‘oil’ left…”
“Thanks for being here.”
“You look like my friend from JC!” (?!)

Mom got a few sweaty hi-fives, which she loved. I got a circle of mosquito bites around my ankle and finished half a bag of Sour Cream n Onion Ruffles (before the runners came – it might have been cruel otherwise). Sis got goosebumps from watching the first runner come by.

It was fun.

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