Amy Lu's View

It’s been 4 weeks since I ran Grandma’s Marathon. According to popular running wisdom, it takes a day for each mile you run in a race to recover from a race, so I should now be officially recovered from Grandma’s.

Turns out, there isn’t much science behind this claim or research into marathon recovery. “Recovery” is also a complex and somewhat nebulous idea. Recovery does not mean that you don’t run at all, and it’s often compared to a period of tapering in reverse. I have been running these last four weeks, but not too much or too strenuously.

I’m not sure yet if I feel fully physically recovered from Grandma’s. I feel fine for all daily physical activities but I’m definitely running way more slowly that I was before Grandma’s. I just can’t tell if this is because I’m not recovered, or I’ve lost some running mo-jo over the last month, or because it’s been so damn hot (and I suck at getting up early to run).

My slowness is probably a perfectly normal combination of the above three factors, but it’s starting to freak me out a bit. Which leads me to ponder the more intangible aspects of recovery: the mental and emotional. This dimension of recovery is complicated by my plan to race the Twin Cities Marathon which is now twelve weeks away.

The good news is having this new goal lessens the post-Grandma’s letdown (that sadness that comes after the completion, no matter how successful, of any Big Thing). The bad news is that I am not on track with my training program for the TCM yet and I’m not sure when I should be concerned about that.

I’m trying to be patient and sensible and not push myself too soon. I’m trying to have faith in the process of training and recovery and believe that my body will get back to where I want it to be so that I can run a successful Twin Cities Marathon. And I’m trying to be open to redefining success in a year when I run two marathons.

Another component of emotional and mental, and even spiritual marathon recovery, is trying to fully process the lessons I learned from Grandma’s. Besides the “lessons” I previously explored about beating a fit young shirtless guy and post-race drinking and celebrating with Chad, I’ve been thinking about the lessons I learned about my race strategy.

The biggest difference between my first and second marathons is that with Grandma’s I didn’t worry as much about making sure I had enough energy to finish, so I ran faster during the first half of the race. I was still careful not to get out of control, but I was pretty confident that I would be able to finish so I didn’t worry about pace too much. I just made sure I didn’t let my heart rate get too high.

I think this approach accounted for my faster performance and most of the 13 minutes I shaved off from my Twin Cities completion time. (I was probably also in a little better shape and the course was a little easier). I did slow down significantly starting with mile 21 (no negative splits for me) but I wasn’t that much slower at the end of Grandma’s than I was at the end of the TCM. I think I felt more drained at the end of Grandma’s, (definitely more nauseous) but I didn’t have any injuries and my level of muscle fatigue was about the same.

I do need to give some serious thought to my fueling and hydrating strategy during a race. Unlike the rest of my life, I really hate taking in nourishment while running. Logistically, it’s just a pain the ass, as I hate carrying food and gels and whatnot and fumbling with them while running.  I also hate slowing down for and navigating water stops. (I wonder if this is how Chad feels about the need for daily nourishment?)

In addtion to the hassles, when I’ve been running for a long time, consuming water and gels, etc., starts making me feel queasy (yes, I’ve tried various different gels so I don’t think it’s because of any particular product). But part of my nausea and decreased speed are probably caused by not taking in enough water and calories earlier in the race. (Part of it is most definitely caused by running a stupid distance of miles).

As my official period of marathon recovery ends and I can no longer reasonably use recovery as an excuse for any poor physical, emotional, or intellectual performance, one thing is clear to me: it will be a long time before I recover from wanting to blog (and brag) about running.