To Cleveland

The six days after Boston were light. I took Tuesday off. On Wednesday, as I eased into it, I was surprised - given that I dropped out around 14 miles - how tight my quads were. I jogged 30 minutes - probably 9-minute pace. Thursday I got in 45 minutes. Friday I got in 60 minutes. Saturday I took my comprehensive exam at AU, and was up too late the night before to train. On Sunday, I put in a still-tired 80 minutes in Alexandria before covering the GW Parkway Classic.

 The following week I entered the Cleveland Marathon. And since my legs did not feel ready to run hard yet, I decided to devote the week to getting in some solid mileage and claiming a more recent race result than Boston. At the Pike's Peek 10K, my only goal was to run hard and give myself a solid test. I clocked 32:31, a lot slower than last year.

But, all things considered, I was happy to be racing - and it was a step towards putting Boston behind me. Cleveland is May 20. And man, it's weird to be running right now. Had Boston gone well, the last couple weeks I would have just run when I felt like it. Instead, I've put in two weeks right around 85 miles, close to 90 percent of what I was doing to prepare for Boston. In the run-up to Cleveland, I guess I'm more focused on making my head strong than anything else.

On one hand, it makes no sense to put in a steady 20 miles (parts were right around 6 flat) 15 days before Cleveland. On the other, I had to.

That's what I'll continue doing these last couple weeks: whatever I think I need to get on that starting line and run like hell.

As I wrote in my article about Boston for AU's American Observer, dropping out when I did in Boston basically gave me the chance to fight another day. I am not somehow who recovers well from marathons; had I fought on - finishing, I'm guessing, in more than 3 hours - that would've been it for me until the fall. Going after another thon, then, is a chance to still capitalize on the training I did. But I'll be honest: My first run at Boston is something I'll always wrestle with internally.

Here's the deal. One of the advantages of being a runner who does not race to pay the bills is that, ultimately, running is a journey.

Sometimes I feel like I take this journey way too seriously. Other times I feel like I don't take it seriously enough.

My Boston shirt - the one you get when you pick up your packet - is in my drawer, tags on, with my other T-shirts. In the morning, when I go through the drawer and pick out any shirt but that one, I think back to the airport in Boston. So many runners not only wore that shirt; they wore the finishers' medal around their necks!

I loved that. I also loved how, in the airport, all the Boston finishers talked to each other at length about their races. I talked to many of these people myself - as many as I could. And I could not help but notice that, when I told them I dropped out, it was obvious my words made zero sense to them. I heard people say, I ran 20 minutes slower; I ran 30 minutes slower; I ran an hour slower. I did not hear anyone say, I bailed at 14.

 The fact is, a little more than 96 percent of the field got it done. The fact is, my goal involved more than crossing the line.

I guess what I realize now all too well is that I need to run at least one more personal best in the marathon to be satisfied with this journey. Right now I'm no doubt a bit too preoccupied with it for my own good. But, it is what it is.

Still, I'm glad I had those conversations. If things work out, I'll carry them with me all the way back to Hopkinton.

For now, Cleveland beckons.

Quick Note Post-Boston

I need to keep this brief. I was no match for the record heat Monday in Boston. I dropped out in Wellesley and called it a day.

It looks like I am taking a shot at another marathon next month.

I do plan to write about my experience in Boston and my plan moving forward, but first I need to pass my comprehensive exam for graduate school on Saturday. I also am working on something about Boston and the heat for the American Observer.

For 12 weeks, I trained intent on running a new personal best (2:26-2:28).

This is not the most volume I have done. But it was definitely some of the most focused - and maybe smartest - training I have done.

I tried to hit my workouts. I tried to recover. And I tried to live the life better than I have in the past.

Boston Marathon Training

Jan. 23
Monday - AM 12
Tuesday - AM 10 PM 5
Wednesday - PM 14 (Mall) 3 by 1.5 miles; 3 by 1200 (8:08, 7:58, 7:54); (3:54, 3:54, 3:53)
Thursday - AM 8 PM 4
Friday - 10
Saturday - 8
Sunday - 21 (2:15. Steady the whole way; picked it up last five miles. Ran with Stefan Kolata.)
Total: 92

Jan. 30
Monday AM 9 PM 8
Tuesday - AM 8 PM 5
Wednesday AM 4 PM Track: 6 (7:47), 5 (6:20), 4 (4:56), 3 (3:35), 2 (2:20) ,1 (65) 11.5 - 15.5
Thursday AM 8.5 PM weights, stretching
Friday - 13
Saturday - 8
Sunday - AM 21. Coach Jerry’s Boston workout: 5 warmup; 4 miles at marathon effort (5:37, 35, 31, 32), 6.5 miles moderate, 3 miles in 15:38 (5:22, 5:13, 5:01), 2.5 cool down
Total: 96

Feb. 6
Monday -AM 7.5 PM 9.5
Tuesday - AM 9.5 PM 4.5 weights, stretching
Wednesday - PM 12
Thursday - In Florida, 8
Friday - 14 with 6 miles at 5:30 pace
Saturday - 25. Out and back on A1A. Huge headwind coming back. Little faster than 7 minute pace.
Sunday - 10 very slow
Total: 100

Feb. 13
Monday - AM 8
Tuesday - AM 12
Wednesday - AM 4 PM 11
Thursday - AM 9 PM 7
Friday - 10
Saturday - 9
Sunday - AM 16 in Seattle (lots of hills)
Total: 86

Feb. 20
Monday - off (traveling)
Tuesday - AM 13
Wednesday - AM 5 PM 14
Thursday - AM 9 PM 9.5
Friday - 9
Saturday - AM 8 PM 7
Sunday - Coach Jerry’s marathon workout Round 2: 5 warmup, 5 miles in 27:53, 6.5 miles at 6:30-7 minute pace, 3.5-mile progression (5:25, 5:18, 5:20, 2:45), 2.5 cooldown - 23~ ... This did not go quite as well as the last one, but it was a simple fueling issue.
Total: 98

Feb. 27
Monday- AM 5 PM 8
Tuesday - 0 (work)
Wednesday - AM 6 PM 12. Track: 6 by 1600 - 5:05, 5:05, 5:00, 5:01, 4:57, 4:56
Thursday AM 8 PM 7
Friday AM 12
Saturday PM 9
Sunday - 23
Total: 90
(This week was probably the crappiest one.)

March 5
Monday - PM 8.5
Tuesday - AM 9 (8 by 2 minutes, 90 secs off on Mall)
Wednesday - AM 6 PM 6
Thursday - AM 8
Friday - AM 6.5, strides
Saturday - AM USA 15k Champs (15) 51:04, 50th. Big headwinds. Ran by effort. Steady opening 10K. Wind beat me down the last 5K. Slow time, but 50th was where I was looking to place in the field.
Sunday - 13
Total - 71

March 12
Monday - 11
Tuesday - 12
Wednesday - 15
Thursday - AM 6 with 6 hill reps PM 9
Friday - AM 10 PM 5
Saturday - 8
Sunday - 23 16.5 hilly miles (segments at 6 flat pace, all under 7 minute pace). Finished with 6 miles in 33:08 on the track.
Total - 99

March 19
Monday - 11
Tuesday - AM 8 PM 8
Wednesday - AM 5 PM 11 (5 by 1 mile on CCT: downhill, uphill, downhill, uphill, downhill: 5:09, 5:11, 4:58, 5:06, 4:54)
Thursday - AM 9
Friday - AM 8 PM 8
Saturday - 8
Sunday - 20
Total - 96

March 26
Monday - rest. Had to. Too flat on Sunday.
Tuesday AM 10 PM 5
Wednesday AM 4 PM 9 (2.5 miles on the CCT with Jake at 5:12 pace)
Thursday - 10
Friday - 8
Saturday - 4
Sunday - 16 - Cherry Blossom 10 Mile Run - 53:05, 27th
Total - 66

Taper
Monday - 8
Tuesday - 8
Wednesday - 9 Track: 3 by 1 mile: easy (5:34), medium (5:06), hard (4:42)
Thursday - 7
Friday - 6
Saturday - 11
Sunday - 13
Total - 64

April 9
Monday - 8
Tuesday - 7
Wednesday - 7 - Dress rehearsal: 3 miles in 16:48.
Thursday - 50 min.
Friday - 40 min.
Saturday - 30 min.
Sunday - 30 min.

Monday - Boston Marathon - DNF

To Hopkinton ...

As far as the running life goes, I cannot say that 2011 worked out as planned.

There never was a plan.

The training was day to day. Things happened; I reacted.

Last year's training log featured zero 100-mile weeks. There is not much of a training log, either. Most of the year is unaccounted for.

As Haruki Marukami puts it in "What I Talk About When I Talk About Running," "I don't know why, but the older you get, the busier you become."

Last year did include long stretches of solid, quality-based training. There is perhaps no other year that I was as consistent with not only speed work, but group speed work.

It was also an excellent year for our running club. Our coach, Jerry Alexander, is a game-changer, our very own Bill Squires.

I didn't really realize this until just a few minutes ago, when I searched for my results at Marathon Guide. I have only one marathon result in 2010 and 2011.

It goes back, in a sense, to the 2010 Chicago Marathon. 2009 had been a great year. I had averaged about 10 miles a day, including breaks. I PRed in the half, won a small marathon and ran well at the Philadelphia Marathon. But 2010 got off to a shaky start. Early in the year I got a foot infection that required five weeks off. Come May, I went all-in in preparing for the marathon. Then, in the weeks before the race, I picked up an odd case of sciatica that meant basically zero running for the last week of the taper. To make matters worse, we ended up catching a hot day. For the first - and hopefully only - time, I dropped out of a marathon. This was a low point.

It took months after Chicago for me to get my body in order. By then, my life had changed. During my taper for Chicago, I started a 20-month, Saturday master's program at American University. For a journalist, it was like adding on another assignment or two per week. Getting in good training became considerably more tricky. This continues to factor into my running life now, as I'm two courses away from getting my MA in Interactive Journalism in May.

In 2011, a good week of training had me getting in about 85 miles. Busier weeks left me time for more like 60 or 65.

At some point last year I decided that 2012 was the year I'd go to Boston. Thing was, I would need a qualifier. Given my schedule, though, I was not sure if I wanted to do a fall marathon, recover for a couple months and then start preparing for Boston. I also knew that I did not want to focus on a marathon in the spring. Somehow - I am not able to recall exactly what I was thinking - I decided I would focus on shorter stuff in the spring and cap the season with the inaugural Gettysburg North-South Marathon.

I think I was thinking that it was time to stop thinking so much.

It was time to do something new. In the running world at large, 2011 will go down as a year, as many have written, that the marathon was totally and utterly redefined. Course records were broken at all five major marathons; the world record is now 2:03:38.

The way I see it is that the idea of running 20 miles with your mind and 10K with your heart is basically out the window. For pros like Geoffrey Mutai - who won the Boston Marathon in the fastest time ever run and then broke the course record in New York - the marathon is no different, really, than the 10K. The distance, in other words, is no obstacle: For Mutai, for example, 20 or 22 miles is not the time when you start to wilt; it is a time, despite the pain, that you go all in - and accelerate.

You don't hear running dorks talking about Lydiard and Pfitzinger that often anymore. Now, more often, you hear Canova and Rosa - or Salazar, Mahon and McMillan.

By taking a break from the marathon, and by taking a break from structure, I was able to rethink what I was doing. I thought about a lot of the mistakes I had made in training. I thought about how, on one hand, I continue to improve; on the other, I feel like I have not come close to realizing my goals.

Things did not click for me last year until mid-April at the Pike's Peek 10K. It's funny, too, because I almost pulled out of this race the night before. All spring my right heel had been a real bother, and the week leading up to Pike's Peek it was particularly tight. The afternoon before, after I got home from class, I went over to the gym (it was raining) to do a shakeout on the treadmill and see how it felt. Well, it felt pretty bad. After I got back to my apartment I sat down on the couch, somewhat bummed, and talked to Emily about it. She offered me a glass of wine. Then I had a second (and I think maybe a third.) Suddenly, my heel felt pretty much fine. I ate dinner and went to bed.

The next morning I had no race plan. I was loose. Warren Zevon was the perfect pre-race music.

Pike's Peek is really an amazing race. For one, I have never been on on a starting line (at least in the first couple rows) with so many ridiculously fast African runners. You get a great mix of locals, and the point-to-point course is as fast as it gets. Minutes before the start Andy Sovonick asked me what I wanted to run and I said, without really thinking, "mid 32s." I eased into it, going through the mile in around 5:10. Then, up ahead, I saw Chris Sloane, a comrade who had a really inspiring year. "There's the race," I thought. I caught up to Sloane, and we worked together much of the way, with him slipping away around 4.5 miles. We both ran big PRs. It was my first time under 32 minutes, as my chip time was 31:38 (top picture).

Racing without any real plan last year - without putting any pressure on myself to peak for anything - really re-connected me with the pure spirit of racing. Get on the line, get out smart, gradually work your way onto the pain train. Cross the line, shake the hands of anyone around you, feel good about it. You raced. You did not do anything stupid; you gave it what you had.

Racing is not pretty. I remember Pikes Peek as one of my more, as my college coach used to say, effortless efforts. In reality, for Sloane and I it felt like what you see in this picture:



Things are good on the work front. I started a new job recently at the Department of Transportation. Rather than drive 45 minutes to work, I hop on a bike and get there in 5. I also was recently named Senior Editor at the Washington Running Report. When it works out, I've developed a habit of racing and reporting.

Long story short, I have hit a good rhythm. I feel very blessed. Today, in fact, I'm an uncle: This morning my sister-in-law gave birth to Lucas Edward Pullman.

When I started marathoning in 2005, if you had asked me what I planned to be doing - as a runner - at 30, I would have told you, "winding it down." Transitioning, as they say.

It's my hope that, at 30, I'm just getting started. There are too many great examples right now of runners who are running personal bests well into their 30s. Look at Meb!

There's more I could go into, but I think I'll leave it at that. I think I dropped some hints, maybe, about my planned training approach for Boston, but I would rather not write about it yet. I will not, in other words, be blogging about my 12-week prep for my next marathon. I've learned that it causes me to put too much pressure on myself.

I will, however, keep a log and publish it after April 16. If I can remember, which is somewhat doubtful, I will tweet about my daily training.

Anyway, it's 9 p.m. Getting past my bedtime ...