Be the run…

Every run in my first year of long distance running was mind-boggling.  Running any distance greater than the span of a busy intersection was inconceivable.  Ultimately I’m more daunted by how much time it takes to run, say, 16 miles than the fact that I’m going to *run* 16. consecutive. miles.  Distance is a fairly vague metric.  Twelve miles, 16 miles, 20 miles: all “big.”  But 2 hours, 2.5 hours, 3.5 hours, that’s a measurement I can relate to (and be intimidated by).  I mean, who thinks RUNNING for 3-4 hours sounds like fun??  That’s the comment I get most often when people learn that I’m an endurance runner:

“You run marathons?  How far is that, twenty miles?”

26.2

“Miles??”

“How long does that take?”

Fastest time 4:06 and change.

“HOURS??”

But here’s the deal.  I am usually blissfully unaware of the passage of time when I’m running.  Most days there is only the now, I’m incredibly present, it’s an amazing zen.  I am my run.  All of my mental and physical energy fuels my legs; my mind is free and for the duration of the run there’s no worry, fear, or hurt. In their place rises gratitude and hope, and touching base with both of these on a daily basis makes overcoming the negativity so much easier.

Running is not always a zen experience.  Some days I feel like an elephant (or two!).  Some days everything hurts and I never get into the groove.  But that’s only some days.  Most days I feel lucky to be able to run and I look forward to it.

Be your run.

Double Crush

Double Crush Syndrome – the root of my problems.  (There’s a joke in there somewhere…)

For weeks I have been mystified by the intensity of pain I have been feeling in my right leg, particularly my right calf and right glute.  Since first consulting with my chiropractor, who specializes in sports injuries, the focus has been on treating the pinched nerve in my lumbar spine.  But lately I have been feeling a recurrence of the posterior tibial tendinitis I thought I’d corrected over the summer and started asking questions about how nerve pain originates (spine to foot, or foot to spine?).

Enter Double Crush Syndrome–the effects of the tendinitis in my ankle are exaggerated due to the pinched nerve in my spine (and/or vice versa), thus producing more pronounced symptoms.  Treatment of only one of the sites rarely results in remediation of the symptoms.  It turns out that multiple injury sites are often involved in repetitive stress injuries such as tendinitis; a classic example is Carpal Tunnel Syndrome (CTS), which is often coupled with nerve damage in the cervical spine.

Dr. Robert L. Kane, DC, CCUCS, a private practitioner in Redwood City, CA, writes the following: a nerve is similar to an electrical wire transmitting signals from one end to another. If a small amount of damage (injury) is done to the wire, we may not notice a change in the signal transmission (symptoms). But if a small amount of additional damage is done at another area further down the wire, the signal may then be affected by the cumulative effects of both injuries. This, in turn, causes noticeable transmission problems (symptoms) at the original site. And since the second area of damage was too small to create symptoms on its own, it may go undetected unless the entire wire is examined. (See full article here.)

What now?  On Friday I will talk with my chiropractor and his physical therapist about the research I’ve done and see what they have to say about how to tackle resolving both the pinched nerve and the tendinitis.  I’ll be (finally!) getting x-rays to confirm what’s going on in with my spine.  I will also consult with both my PT and, separately, my trainer in Boulder next weekend to see what they recommend.  Ultimately I’d like to design my own rehab program based on all the info I gather, and implement it under the guidance of the chiropractor and his PT (as long as they buy in) since I have the most consistent access to them at present.  Hopefully I’ll be able to continue running throughout, I’m really happy to be back at it.

A Body At Rest, A Body In Motion

Five weeks and counting.  That’s how long I’ve been banned from running and I’m hating it.  At first I tried to maintain my cardio fitness and leg strength with other forms of exercise, but my resolve weakened when I found myself in physical therapy 3x/week for a pinched nerve in my lumbar spine.  My will to exercise in any form disappeared around the same time I admitted to myself that there was no way I would be ready for my marathon on Oct 10th.  Or my backup marathon on Dec 5th.

The process of becoming a body at rest is insidious and way too easy.  It started with not taking the stairs anymore because of my back/leg pain, letting myself off the hook for aqua-jogging because the pool is getting too cold, then taking a week off from everything because I got a cold (which I attribute to not getting regular exercise–I haven’t been sick since getting a cold after my first marathon).  The next thing you know I’m sleeping in every morning, eating all kinds of junk food, and not doing my daily PT exercises.  It had to stop.

And stop it did; this week I’m climbing back in the saddle.  I’m not running yet (hopefully this weekend), but I’m spinning and I’m doing my PT strength training.  I’m sucking up the fact that it’s really hard to get out of bed early, I’m dealing with feeling like crap when I spin because I don’t have the same level of cardio fitness or leg strength I did 6 weeks ago, and I’m trying not to hate myself for the fact that I’ve gained weight (on top of the weight I’ve gained from having to eat at the company cafeteria twice a day).  And I’m working on weening myself off junk food (why is sugar so addictive??).

Faced with the chore of getting back into shape, back into an exercise routine, I am reminded of why it’s so hard to develop an exercise habit.  No one wants to feel incapable, unfit, or bad about themselves.  Yet when you start an exercise program, that’s exactly how you feel.  It’s a wonder any of us ever get past the inertia that compels us to remain at rest.

But there’s good news!  The inertia that compels us to remain a body at rest is equally capable of compelling us to remain a body in motion.  All it takes is an external force to change the inertia.  That would be you.  You need the desire to change your state, and the discipline to stick with it.  Eventually it becomes a no-brainer, a way of life, a given.  And if you need a little more motivation: for all the times I forced myself out of bed to go for a run when I haven’t wanted to, I’ve never once regretted having done so.  And once you’re a body in motion it gets easier every day.  You start to enjoy it and crave it, you’re thinner, more fit, more energetic, more productive, happier… Need I go on?

I can’t wait to be a body in motion again.  Any of you want to become bodies in motion with me?

Two months? Really??

Hey, long time no talk!  Where’ve you guys been?  When did it get to be *September*??

Let’s catch up:  In June there was the tendinitis diagnosis and the subsequent acquisition of orthotics, which worked wonders.  There were six weekend trips to Denver, three half marathons, and a 20-mile backpacking adventure that caused a pretty severe recurrence of the tendinitis accompanied by shin splints.  The resulting pain necessitated a two-week break from running at the peak of my marathon training.  Since then here’s been a bunch of physical therapy, and aqua jogging and spinning in lieu of running.  (Note to self: it was a HUGE mistake not to put the orthotics in the hiking boots and, worse, a really really bad idea to run the last mile of said trip in said hiking boots carrying an additional 25 lbs.)

In summary: I overdid it.

It was all a lot of fun, but I may have inadvertently sacrificed my October marathon in the process.  I’m not sure how things will play out, stay tuned.

The shin bone’s connected to the ankle bone…

It’s all coming back to me…little comments made over the years that indicate that my current condition–posterior tibial tedinitis–has been a long time coming:  A shoe salesman said that I was flat-footed.  A doctor commented that I was knock-kneed.  A chiropractor told me that I overpronate.  These characteristics were noted in the same manner in which one might observe my left handedness or my green eyes.  The critical difference, however, is that the former are things that can be changed, although you wouldn’t have thought so they way they were presented.  They are the result of muscle tension imbalances that could lead to potentially debilitating problems, and are to some extent reversible if the root cause is known and addressed.  Sad that none of the people above knew about, or thought to mention, that these “characteristics” could and should be reversed.

Collapsed ankle, dropped arch.

The long and the short of it: weak hip muscles, through the kinetic chain, have caused tendinits in my ankle.  How?  My weak hips allow my femur to rotate inward, which causes my knees to collapse (knock-kneed), which puts strain on my inner ankle, causing it to roll inward (over-pronate), which leads to a flattening of the arch (flat-footed) and a slightly outward rotation of my right foot.  All of this puts incredible strain on the posterior tibial muscle and tendon, whose job is to lift my arch.

Years of this kind of strain, exacerbated by running, has caused the tendinitis, which manifests as pain on both sides of my ankle, the back of my heel up into the achilles area, the inside of my lower leg, and my upper calf muscles.

The good news is that I can strengthen the muscles responsible for proper alignment and relieve the stress on my posterior tibial muscle/tendon.  I’ve been prescribed side leg lifts, side plank, forward lunges, and squats with a strap around my legs just above the knee (the goal being to keep the strap in place through outward pressure–because I’m knock-kneed the strap falls as soon as I bend my knee).  I’ll also need an orthotic to support my arch while I’m working to strengthen the hip abductors and vastus medialis (one of the quads).

I’m pretty excited to have finally pinpointed my issue, and to have found the right team of medical professionals to guide me through fixing it.  If you’re in the Denver-Boulder area and need a sports medicine doctor or a physical therapist, I highly recommend both Dr. John Hill (CU Sports Medicine, Denver) and Bob Cranny (Altitude Physical Therapy, Boulder & Longmont).

Oh, the photo of the collapsed ankle above is from this New Zealand-based health website called Easy Vigour, which really helped me understand my condition.  Ironically, the doctor who put this site together is a veterinarian!

Ode To My Coach :-)

Coach David read my last post and commented that he wasn’t *that*  bad when he said “I told you so.”  He wasn’t.  I tried to find our conversation so I could quote him verbatim but it was over text message and it is long gone.  I think he said something like “Maybe now you’ll listen to me,” which I summarized as “I told you so.”

The point is he’s right, and he has every right to call me out.  He’s my coach, I pay him for his expertise because I don’t know enough about running myself, and even if I did I’d still want/need an objective outsider to guide me.  Yet I pick and choose which of his advice to follow.  I could have seriously injured myself by overdoing it, I’m lucky I did not.  As it is I do have an issue: posterior tibial tendinitis (tendinitis near my heal/ankle).  While it wasn’t caused by my recent over-training, it’s most certainly exacerbated by it an it nearly prevented me from running my last marathon.

Someone recently told me that there’s a very thin line between training at the peak of your ability and injury.  I’ve been trying to train at and improve the peak of my ability.  I’m walking that thin line and I have no idea what I’m doing.  Coach David is operating more conservatively, which is sometimes frustrating, but he’s looking at the long haul.  He wants to keep me running into the next decade, not just the next race.

I have been running for 16 months and endurance-racing for a year now.   It’s taught me I can achieve great things and it has taught me my limitations.  Most importantly it’s taught me to trust my coach.  I have been working with him for 11 months now, and I can say unequivocally that I would be floundering without his expertise.  So, thanks Coach for helping me to achieve my potential and for waiting patiently for me to “get it.”

P.S.  Seems like a good place to include a plug for Coach David and the awesome Runners Edge of the Rockies.  The summer session is just about to begin: five months of supported Saturday runs, weekday fun runs, trail runs, speed workouts and bootcamp, discounts with our partner running store (Runner’s Roost), discounts on race entry fees, and much much more!

Learning the hard way

Back in January when I told my coach that I wanted to run Eugene on May 2 he said it was a bad idea.  It was too soon, he’d said, I’d be better off with a late June marathon.  He was concerned because I’d just run the second of two marathons only five weeks apart, and he’d thought *that* was a bad idea too.  But I’d done better in both races than he expected so I ignored his advice.  I did research marathons scheduled in June but didn’t find any that appealed to me.  Eugene, on the other hand, had all the right characteristics: small, fast, a beautiful setting, generally cool weather, great reviews.

After recovering from the marathon for two weeks I began my accelerated training schedule with a 14-mile run.  I remember being stunned that I had to jump back in at 14, but that was what my new schedule prescribed.  Eight miles was what I’d been anticipating, 14 was…wow.  Okay, I told myself, I can do this.  Mind over matter.  I’m just a little tired from back-to-back marathons, it’s not like I’m starting from scratch, I’ve already built up my endurance.  I’ll just stay the course and gradually my energy will return.

But it didn’t.  Very few of my training runs felt good, especially the long ones.  I kept examining my mental game, figuring that all the recent changes in my life–half moving to California and half not, learning a new job and a new company, my nomadic lifestyle–were taking their toll.  It never occurred to me that I was just plain tired from training for a year straight and running back-to-back marathons.

In this timeframe what had been a minor ache in my calf escalated into severe tightness/pain in my entire right leg, from my arch to my hip.  I dealt with it by getting frequent massages but that didn’t address the root cause, it merely loosened my muscles enough to continue training.

The problems with my leg got so bad that the week before the marathon I found myself doubting my ability to run a full 26 miles.  I didn’t know if I had a bona fide injury and I didn’t wind up hurting myself so badly that I had to take months off from running to recover.  That is not the mindset with which you want to approach a race.

A friend got me in to see her physical therapist the Monday before the marathon.  Ultimately he said I could run if I did a couple of stretches twice a day, bought new shoes immediately, and promised to stop running if I experienced more pain than usual during the run.  But he was unable to tell me if my leg would hold for the whole race.  Still, knowing I wasn’t compounding a bad injury gave me some relief.

So I ran it.  As you know from my race synopsis, my leg wasn’t much of an issue during the race but I had to overcome extreme fatigue in order to finish, and I scraped by with a 28-second PR.
After the race I emailed my coach to report in.  I admitted that I had overdone it and fatigued myself  to the point of exhaustion.  He replied saying, nicely, “I told you so.”  Yes you did, Coach, I learned my lesson.

My stats are improving!

Awhile ago I decided that if I was going to focus my valuable time and energy on running, I was going to get the most that I could out of it.  IMHO, the best way to do that is to understand my strengths and weaknesses, and then train to exploit the former and improve the latter.  But how to do that?

Last November I had my first physiological performance evaluation, which exposed my biggest physiological weakness: my system switches over from burning fat (good fuel) to burning glucose (bad fuel) way too soon in my aerobic range: at way too low a heart rate, and way too slow a speed.  Since November I’ve been focusig my training on improving the capacity of my slow-twitch muscle fibers to burn fat for fuel, which means I’ve been running at a very specific heart rate for most of my runs.

Three weeks ago I went in for updated testing and was very pleased to learn that I showed really good improvement in this area despite a 7 lb weight gain (thank you company cafeteria).  Had I not gained 7 lbs my improvement would have been even better.

Based on these most recent test results I now have two training targets.  I still need to spend most of my time training in the (slow) zone that addresses fat-burning, but I also need to improve my system’s ability to cope with lactic acid at higher intensities by increasing my lactate threshold, which means building some higher intensity workouts into the plan as well.

There was one area in which I did not improve, and that is how much glycogen was stored in my system.  Last time around my glycogen stores were not great, and this time the number was even worse.  Because of my weight gain I’d been anticipating that my glycogen stores would be better and was surprised to see that they were not.  I learned that injured muscles can’t store glycogen, and I’ve definitely got something going on with my right leg, so that might be contributing to the problem.

All in all I’m pretty happy with the test results and I’m looking forward to the upcoming training cycle.

The road to hell…

If indeed the road to hell is paved with good intentions a substantial number of them are mine.

I am a planner, and a good one at that (hence my occupation).  I love making plans, I love having plans.  Here I sit two weeks after the Eugene marathon with a spreadsheet full of plans for getting myself to the next marathon in excellent shape.  I have a training plan, a cross-training plan, and a strength training plan.  I have an eating plan.  I have a physical therapy plan.  I am happy, content.

Sort of.  Because to some extent I am less good at implementing ambitious plans than I am at making them.  It could be considered good strategy:  I make perfect-world plans, the real world intervenes, and even though I fail to implement at 100% I still manage to achieve at an above-average completion rate.

So I finish my training spreadsheet, and I’m feeling good until it dawns on me: I actually have to implement this plan!  It’s one thing to wake up and run the miles in my training plan, I’ve pretty much got that part down.  It’s another thing entirely to step it up to the level I have planned.  It’s going to be WORK!  It’s going to take commitment.  It’s going to take constant vigilance, tons of coordination, missed social opportunities, early bedtimes, early wake-ups.  Gasp!  I might actually have to start making lists!  You’d think a planner like me would be a list-maker, but I’m not.  I used to be, I don’t know what happened…

For example, right now I just want to finish writing this article.  But it’s 9pm, I have to get up at 5:45 and be ready to leave at 6:15 to drop Marla at the train station and meet Hala for a run.  I still need to do my PT stretches, get ready for bed, lay out running clothes, pack a gym bag with everything I need to shower and dress at work (and not forget socks this time because it was awful to wear boots the other day with no socks).

And that’s just the beginning.  Soon I will start bringing my own breakfasts and lunches to work and that will add another level of complexity to the mix.  And when I start riding my bike to work once a week that’s going to require bringing TWO sets of clothes to work the day before, and at the end of the day remembering to leave everything but my wallet and phone at work the night before.  And so on.  (You folks with kids are laughing at me right now, aren’t you?  )

It’s no wonder my enthusiasm for my plans starts to wane in the wake of mental fatigue just thinking about the logistics.  But then I look ahead to October, and the next marathon.  I imagine what it will feel like to stand on the starting line, 16 lbs lighter, stronger, faster, and know that my goal for the marathon is totally within my grasp.  And I know that the inconvenience will be worth it.  Even if I have to make a list to remind myself of that.

Race Report – Guest Blogger: Stephen

You may remember Stephen from his first guest stint:  “What He Said”

Since Stephen and I ran the Eugene Marathon together I thought it might be interesting to get his take on it.

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“Hey there, Mr. Multi-Marathoner!”

That cheery opening fronted a discussion of the post-marathon blues that Krista and I share right now, and of what is next on our race and training calendars. It’s a new title for me, having started AND finished two marathons, and while I’m not prone to self-promotion, I *am* happy to take that one on; it took a lot of hard work to get there, and I’m really happy with the results.

But I’m starting at the end of the story, aren’t I?

Earlier in the year, I’d been looking for a spring marathon in which to participate. A few of my local running crew were making noise about Vancouver, but Krista countered with Eugene, as one of the best Boston qualifiers in the country. I briefly compared elevation profiles, and agreed that Eugene would be a better choice.

Training for my second marathon was a bit different than for my first. The time of year, certainly, was a huge difference: an October marathon meant lots of warm-weather miles, whereas an early-May marathon meant training through the winter and early spring. Fortunately, the winter in Seattle’s been warmer than usual,
overall, and even though there have been some soggy and dark mornings putting in the miles around Green Lake, it could have been a lot worse. (There were a few chilly mornings in December, including one 19-degree morning. My running partner Sharlyn suggested, afterwards, that the run was rather like skiing; layer up and any skin left
uncovered was darned cold.)

In-race nutrition is another, probably more important difference: some of my training runs were with my friend Joan, who puts in longer miles than most of our crew, albeit at a little slower pace than mine. In
addition to discovering that we share a lot of musical interests, we talked a bit about the need for hydration and fuel during a long run, and she suggested that I try to eat something every few miles. A timely suggestion; my next long run was a 15-miler, and refueling every three miles or so made a noticeable difference in my energy level throughout the run.

In the week prior to Eugene, Krista and I exchanged many e-mails, comparing race strategies, coordinating schedules, and helping each other mentally prepare for the event. We’d agreed to meet in Portland and drive to Eugene together.

As my train pulled into the station in Portland Friday morning, I remembered that the Portland Marathon route loops almost completely around the train station about three miles from the finish, and as I looked out at that now-familiar territory, a smile crept across my face. I remembered running through that part of Portland and knew, KNEW that I was going to finish my first marathon. I was tired and sore and ready to stop running, but with the end so near, I surely was not going to stop. Not long after, I spotted my family and friends, cheering me on from the sidewalk, which buoyed my spirits and propelled me to the finish in 4:26.

You’ll notice a theme running through this race report: food! Let’s start with lunch; a recommendation from a Powell’s employee yielded the best pho I’ve had in a while, at Pho DaLat in Portland. After a traffic-filled drive to Eugene down I-5, and a mad dash through the Hilton to retrieve our race packets, we settled in at the hotel, and had a wonderful steak dinner at the Bates Steakhouse just down the street – highly recommended.

Saturday was overcast and a little windy, and we started the day with a short run over to Hayward Field, the start and finish location for the marathon on Sunday. Three miles or so would loosen up the legs and
give us the opportunity to run together, really for the first time. Our paces are pretty compatible, and we fell into an easy rhythm, making our way over to the stadium – about 3/4 mile – where preparations were being made for a track meet that afternoon.

As we made our way around the stadium, I spied a familiar face down the block, my neighbor Robin, who’d also made the trip to Eugene for the event. We chatted for a few minutes, making introductions, and parted ways for the time being. We finished the run and, after changing clothes, headed downtown to the headquarters hotel for breakfast and to spend more than, oh, 2 1/2 minutes in the expo. (I think we were going at about a 10-minute pace through the expo on Friday.) We also met up with another local running buddy, Susan, at the expo.  She and another friend, Kristen, were staying out in Springfield, having decided rather late in the game to go to Eugene, and having had no luck finding a nearby hotel. Susie and Kristen were in Eugene to run the half-marathon.

After the expo, we walked through a large and entertaining farmer’s market near the hotel, before heading out to find a grocery store and Starbucks for the provisions we’d need for Sunday, and lunch. After that, we realized that we were close enough to the course that we could drive the first half of it, to be able to mentally prepare for
the race tomorrow by knowing where we’d be running. The only hills of any note are in the first nine miles, with about fifty feet of elevation change in total. (I did say it was a flat course, didn’t I?)

It did occur to us that we’d be spending most of our time in Eugene either eating, or waiting to eat, and supper was no exception. We picked Robin up from his hotel and headed to a small Italian restaurant – Beppe and Gianni’s Trattoria, only to find that there were enough people there when the doors opened at 5pm to seat the entire place at once. Faced with an hour’s wait, we went elsewhere. It wasn’t our first choice, and it, ultimately, didn’t sit too well with Robin, but it was tasty, and a lively – some might call it “intense” – and enjoyable conversation made the time pass quickly.

Sunday morning rolled around quickly, and it was chilly and still as we rolled out and prepared for the race. Clothing, Glide, gear, shoes, bib… all laid out the night before and ready to go, and we were out the door by 6am to walk over to the start. Drop off the post-race clothing bag, one time through the porta-potty line, and into the
9:00/mile group, ready for the start.

Both of us were carrying multiple Gu packets; I had all three pockets of my shorts full, and Krista was sporting a “skort” with a row of pockets at the waist all along the back. There was one stop along the route that had energy gel… but I wasn’t too thrilled with the “apple pie” flavor. Better to carry my own, and know that I had what I liked
and needed for the race.

The horn sounded, and we were off! No dodging and weaving around slower runners once we started, a welcome change from other events, and with the crowd cheering us on, we made our way through the streets of Eugene.  Early on, we ended up going a little faster than our pace bands indicated, which was “money in the bank” for us. Two minutes doesn’t seem like a lot, but we maintained that “edge” for the first half of the race.

The first half of the race went very well. We maintained a comfortable pace, and ate and drank as needed.  We both passed on the “Liquid Gold” stop; I tried it in Portland and while it’s tasty, it’s unwieldy to consume on the run from a paper cup. (It’s honey and molasses, basically. Organic, and would be GREAT on waffles, but not on the run.)

About mile fourteen, I realized that, well, I needed a bathroom stop. Just before the next water stop there were several porta-potties, and I said to Krista “Keep running; I WILL catch up with you.” [Insert editorial comment from Krista: It was reminiscent of the scene in "Last of the Mohicans" where Daniel Day Lewis says to Madeleine Stowe: "I WILL find you!"]  The stop was definitely needed, and I picked up the pace a bit until I had her in sight, then backed off and slowly made up the rest of the ground, catching her just as we got close to Autzen Stadium at mile 16.

Most of the rest of the course made its way along one side of the river, and then the other, out west from downtown Eugene and then back east to the finish at Hayward Field. This was the tough part of the course for both of us; we were both tired, and it was here that the power of running together was so important: neither of us would have done so well had the other not been there for support of one kind or another.  Even if you’re not encouraging the other person, or being encouraged by them, their presence is a powerful thing. We definitely slowed down a bit through this section, and our goal of finishing below 4:00 slipped away, but we kept running nonetheless.

There were a number of bands along the route, from a DJ spinning a dance-club mix from his driveway to the high-school band ripping through classic rock anthems (no one should play Journey songs THAT fast!), to bagpipes, to a Brazilian drum line – the latter being our favorite. They had a great rhythm, swaying back and forth as they played.

Our pace through the last miles slowed a bit, but we kept moving. At long last, we climbed a small hill and the stadium came into view. Spectators and runners who’d already finished cheered us on as we entered the stadium for a half-lap on the Hayward Field track, and across the finish line!

As I’d said before, our original goal was sub-4:00. Our finish time was 4:06, which was still a PR for both of us; for Krista by just under a minute, but my time took twenty minutes off my time in Portland.

Time for more food! We loaded up with fresh, hot pancakes, bananas, chips and water and sat down, talking about the race and looking at the other finishers. After an hour, we made our way, slowly, back to the hotel and checked out. Up the road to Salem, where we found an Olive Garden restaurant and laid waste to a couple of large plates of lasagne, while trying to pull up our times on the event’s website.

Our hungers taken care of, we continued on to Portland where I boarded the train back home.

Eugene was a fantastic experience, from start to finish. It was a well-run event, a great course, and our training and preparation paid off with PRs. Both of us learned things about ourselves during the race, too: I know that I can get faster, but will need to train smarter (and not necessarily harder) in order to shave more time off my runs and feel better for longer during the next marathon. I’ve made improvements from Portland to Eugene, without a doubt: I felt better for longer, and ran faster overall in Eugene. There’s more to come, though, I’m sure of it.

Now what? There are half-marathons and other events over the summer to run, and time to relax and recharge.  I’ve committed to running two marathons this year, and so I will need to think about a race and a training plan fairly soon.