The Impact of Marathon Training: An N=1 Experiment

I ran my first (and only!) marathon this past November at the age of 35. I spent five months training and, much to my surprise, even longer recovering.

Prior to the training, I was running around 20-25 miles a week, sprinting once a week, doing 2 hours of yoga a week and lifting (heavy) weights 3-4 times a week. I logged an average of 8-9 hours a week on fitness. My cardiovascular endurance was good, my strength was always improving and my bodyfat and weight were consistent (around 18% and 120 lbs, respectively). Once I started training for the race, I had to cut back on the weight training (1-2 times a week; upper body only) and I logged more like 50 miles on the trails.

The changes to my body started about halfway through the program. My weight dropped, hovering around 115. I had to add more calories and carbs (in the form of sweet potatoes) to my diet in order to maintain the energy needed for longer runs. Even though my weight was lower, my bodyfat increased (estimated at 20%) and my pants size went up. I was constantly feeling the effects of inflammation, both visually and in my respiratory and digestive systems. My strength decreased by around 30% and I struggled to do anything that was not a long, slow workout. I could not keep muscle on my frame. Even worse, I was plagued with injuries and illnesses due to overuse and the constant stress on the body.

I was dedicating over 20 hours a week to fitness and I was in worse shape than ever before.

4 months before the marathon

Post marathon

8 months after the marathon

During the race, I suffered an extremely painful IT band injury. As a result, I was unable to run for almost two months after the marathon. Instead, I happily hit the gym again, building back the muscle I had lost and rehabbing the injured leg. As I was able, I slowly added back my shorter runs and sprints, keeping my total mileage to under 25 a week.

It’s been a slow path back to where I was. Age certainly makes it harder to recover and build muscle, but I believe that my body was suffering from too much of the same thing for too long. Now that my routine is more balanced and my total time working out has decreased, I’m finally back. I feel strong again. I fit into my skinny jeans again (even though my weight is back up). I have time to relax again.

My body has definitely sent me the message that it likes to run but it doesn’t like to run distances more suitable to an Atlanta commute. This isn’t the case for every body; I have friends who can run marathons and feel no effects. I, apparently, am not one of them. I’m going to stick to half marathons and shorter from now on:)

I do not regret the marathon. It was an amazing, emotional and transformative experience. But one is enough for me. According to my n=1 experiment, I do better with more weight and fewer miles.

How about you? Any n=1 experiments you want to share?

Related: A Marathon Recap: I Won!

 

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Key to Success: Always Have a Backup Plan

We are scheduled to run the Peachtree Road Race tomorrow, a 10 K run that is an Atlanta institution. The good news? The normal highs in the 90s have been replaced with temperatures in the 70s. The bad news? It may be more of a swim than a run.

As long as the race is not canceled, we will be there. We’ll adjust to the weather by wearing our Vibrams that don’t get soggy and making sure that we bring hats made of quick dry fabric to try to keep the downpour out of our eyes. In this case, the backup plan is to continue with the race just modify our clothing.

Whenever I’m asked for the keys to succeeding in any health or wellness initiative, having a backup plan is always the first strategy that comes to mind. It’s easy to make promises to yourself:

I’m going to walk at least 3 miles every day.

I’m going to eliminate all sugar from my diet.

I’m going to do an hour of yoga every day.

I’m going to prepare all my meals for the week on Sunday.

But what happens when life intervenes?

I’m going to walk at least 3 miles every day.

There’s a thunderstorm during your walking hour.

I’m going to eliminate all sugar from my diet.

You’re invited to a birthday party.

I’m going to do an hour of yoga every day.

You’re sick and the thought of down dog makes you nauseous.

I’m going to prepare all my meals for the week on Sunday.

You went on a weekend trip and didn’t come back until Sunday night.

Without a backup plan, these speed bumps become stop signs. In the moment, it is easy to allow yourself to become derailed and discouraged. If, however, you think ahead and brainstorm (okay, maybe not the best word with the current weather situation in the SE!) potential roadblocks and their solutions, it makes it easier to adjust on the fly.

I’m going to walk at least 3 miles every day.

There’s a thunderstorm during your walking hour.

Possible backup plans: do an exercise video, go to the gym, walk the hallways at the mall, locate an indoor track, go to an indoor trampoline park

I’m going to eliminate all sugar from my diet.

You’re invited to a birthday party.

Possible backup plans: eat beforehand so that you’re not hungry, bring a dish to share that also meets your needs, only attend for the non-food portion of the festivities

I’m going to do an hour of yoga every day.

You’re sick and the thought of down dog makes you nauseous.

Possible backup plans: do a restorative yoga session that uses props and gentle poses, meditate instead, take to time to locate a new yoga class or video and commit to it on the day you feel better (i.e. cue the video or make a reservation for the class)

I’m going to prepare all my meals for the week on Sunday.

You went on a weekend trip and didn’t come back until Sunday night.

Possible backup plans: prepare meals the week before that can be frozen and thawed, trade cooking duties for the week with a friend, choose very easy recipes with nonperishable items that can be purchased beforehand

Of course, there will always be times when something will not work, no matter how many backup ideas you have. That’s okay. The idea is to think outside the box so that you don’t give up when you can go around. The more backup plans you have, the more likely you will be to establish a new, healthy habit in your life.

As for me, I plan to run the Peachtree tomorrow. Now, I need to plan what I’ll do if the lightening or flooding puts a halt to the event. Maybe snorkel instead?:)

English: 2007 peachtree road race crowd shot (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Going With the Flow: SUP Yoga

The 10 foot long paddleboards lay side by side in the sun along the sandy shore like fiberglass coated seals.  Soft waves chased each other across the lake, encouraged by the welcome morning breeze.  It was early enough that the herons still outnumbered the speedboats and the sun was just erasing away any hint of the nighttime chill.

I slipped my hand into the groove cut into the center of the board and hoisted it off the sand and into in the water.  I carefully placed my knees on either side of the handle, the cutaway serving as a constant visual reminder of center.  Stray too far and you fall in. After finding my balance, I carefully placed one foot and then the other on the board, staying in a cautious crouch until I trusted the board.  Until I trusted myself.

Learning to paddle

I pushed up to standing, taking the paddle with me.  After a few rough rows, as I learned how to twist and shift to keep the board steady; I was off. The board traveled lightly upon the water, the hollow thud of the waves hitting the underside of the board.  Our small group made our way up a protected inlet where the current was not so strong and the boats not as numerous.

off to yoga class

We gathered in a group, our boards constantly shifting on the water as our minds shifted into practice.  We were constantly reminded that these were not well-behaved yoga mats, sitting at right angles to a wall, rather they were dynamic surfaces carried by the whims of the winds and the currents. Common poses became uncommon when faced with the limitations and challenges of the board and the water.  We each were ever mindful of our center.  The water became our teacher, each little misalignment gently acknowledged with a tip of the board.  Or, if the subtle hint went unrecognized, a fall into the depths.

attempting tree in the wake of a passing boat

There is no illusion of control on the water.  You have only two choices: give in or give up.  I gave in, sinking deeper into the board.

Pressing into down dog, the board began to rock with waves sent from a passing boat.  Be with it.  You can’t fight the waves.  “Accept them and move with them,” was the lesson spoken by the water.  I listened, giving in to the sway.

a vinyasa

I turned over, pressing into wheel, gaining a new perspective on the ripening morning.  I felt the strength in my limbs anchored equally to the board as it danced lightly on the surface, creating a balance of contrast.  Feeling emboldened by the sun and lightened by the sense of playfulness, I moved into tripod, a pose which eludes me on the mat.  Every muscle and every thought focused solely on the moment.

wheel – a whole new perspective of the lake!

After lying in repose for several minutes, I pushed myself back up to a seated position, so comfortable in my balance that I moved with ease.  Bringing hands to heart center,

Namaste.

As I walked back up the beach, I could feel the lessons of the morning practice settle in and I chose to carry them with me.

Update:  The following day, I was able to do my first full headstand ever! I love the fact that I learned the basics of the pose on the water:)

The group I practiced with:

Atlanta SUP Yoga
Worldwide organization dedicated to SUP yoga:

NamasteSUP