Month: October 2024

Fact: The New York City Marathon was never on the bucket list for me. Hell, a marathon was never on a bucket list. But here I am, about to endeavor upon my tenth (official) marathon that will take me through the five boroughs and over five bridges of New York City.

THE WHY

Elise and I were in Boston in 2023 for yours truly to run the marathon. Since we didn’t have the kids with us this time, we decided to do the traditional “boring” things that the kids wouldn’t have enjoyed, like going to Red Sox game the Sunday afternoon before the race. The Sunday game is usually packed with marathon runners because it’s one of those “have to do” things when you’re in Boston for a bucket list race.

Elise and I sat in front of a row of ladies who were all together and were running the marathon the next day. I struck up a conversation and exchanged war stories with the lady who was sitting directly behind me.

She asked, “have you ever run the New York City Marathon?!”

“Noooo. I have no desire.”

“Why not?!”

“Boston’s expensive. The logistics are crazy. I’m not a fan of huge races. New York’s gotta be crazier than Boston.”

“True. But New York is AMAZING. If you like the energy of Boston you would LOVE the energy of New York. It’s sooo much better.

“…”

“You HAVE to run New York!”

And that’s what pretty much put it in my head to run the NYC Marathon. And while I’m not a huge fan of big races, there is a lot to be said about the energy of a big race. I’m not the kind that feeds off crowd support. In fact, I tip very far over on the introvert side of the scale. Crowds, loud noises, and having attention placed on me drains me and stresses me out. But there’s something about the energy of a race. I really experienced this for the first time at my first Boston Marathon in 2018 when it was 35 degrees, a brutal 30 mph wind blasting from the east, and pouring rain on us the entire time. I thought those of us who were running were crazy, but there were fans lining the entire course, standing out there in those miserable conditions to cheer and support us all. But there’s also the energy from the intangible history and tradition of the race. There’s a spiritual connection that exists between the race’s identity and the runner, along with crowd support and cheering that creates a special energy.

THE HOW

There are a few ways a runner can get a bib to participate in the TCS NYC Marathon.

• Raise a lot of money for an approved charity
• Complete a qualifying program of participating in and completing nine (9) New York Road Runners (NYRR) qualifying races and volunteer at one (1) of their events
• A non-guaranteed general entry drawing (a lottery)
• Qualify

The only way I was going to run the NYC Marathon was if I could get in with a qualifier. I had to make it worth my while. I’d already had a couple half marathons lined up as part of the Austin Distance Challenge in early 2023. The standard for my division was 1:28 for the half marathon. The standard for a qualifying marathon was 3:05. I believe prior to the BAA’s recent change in its standards, my Boston qualifying time was 3:25. Boston doesn’t allow for qualifying half marathons. Point being that it’s more difficult to qualify for the NYC Marathon than it is for Boston. I would’ve liked to have used a qualifying marathon time for NYC (which I possessed with a 3:03:00 in Boston) but I also wanted to use this as an opportunity to qualify with a PR attempt in the half marathon. I also wasn’t sure if there was a margin by which I had to beat my qualifying time. If there was, I wanted to give myself as large a margin as possible, so I gutted out a PR in the half marathon with a 1:19:33 which gave me a 9(ish) minute buffer.

On February 28th I submitted my registration and proof of qualifying time to the NYRR. On March 11th I received the email stating that I’d been admitted into the 2024 TCS NYC Marathon.

On Sunday I’ll toe the line at the start of the Verrazzanno-Narrows bridge in Staten Island and experience the famed energy of the largest marathon in the world.

I’m running the TCS NYC Marathon in six days. This will be my 10th marathon. I have no idea how many races I’ve participated in in these past 11 years, but I feel like I’m the most prepared and confident for NYC.

I’m tapering right now. My training plan bakes in 2 weeks of lower volume and intensity. And the taper is usually when most athletes start having the “taper tantrums.” Symptoms vary, but usually the taper entails fatigue, soreness, crankiness, anxiety, and second guessing yourself.

One of my most common symptoms is second guessing myself. I always wonder, “did I do enough?” “Could I have pushed harder on the track?” “Should I have focused more on pacing?” “Did I do enough strides?” “Was my volume where it should’ve been?”

And that’s when I like to go to my Strava Training Log and reflect. I’ll go back and look at all of my runs and workouts for the previous 18 weeks and remind myself that I put in the work. I built a periodized training plan that was very specific to a goal that I set for myself. And short of a few missed runs (life happens), I stuck to the plan and executed.

But what I really like to do is remember each of those runs. I give all of my runs a name on Strava, and sometimes I’ll add comments. While Strava can be considered social media, I think it of more as a journal for myself. It’s a letter to future Josh. And it’s in times like this that I’m thankful that I write these things.

I started this training block on July 1, 2024. It’s blazing hot here in Texas in July. It’s funny to go back and see how difficult it was to do hill repeats early in training.

I was coaching Jenny for her debut at the Foot Traffic Flat, and I’d think about her frequently on my runs.

We drove back from Oklahoma to attend my wife’s uncle’s funeral. I had my first long run slated for that day. I stuck to the plan, and I used that time on that first long run to think about and mourn Ben.

I ran into some local wildlife.

I was able to catch up with Iram who offered to go on some of the early long runs with me.

The family and I traveled to Charleston for our daughter’s college orientation and lacrosse camp. I found the local run club and they invited me to join their weekly group run. And I was also able to do my own solo tour of the city.

It was around late July that I’d read Coogan’s book and adjusted my own training programming and coaching philosophies and approach. I started grading workouts, and started giving athletes distance and intensity options in workouts, runs, and long runs.

I had some really bad pain in my shoulder that I thought would require medical intervention. Thankfully it turned out to be nothing. I think it was just a minor injury from white water rafting.

I started adding warm-ups and cool-downs to tempo and pace runs, which allowed me to safely and conservatively introduce more volume to a microcycle. I also started prescribing workouts using RPE instead of strict pacing or splits.

I continued to coach the Striders, and used our 60 second run, 30 second walk plan and methodology to supplement my training by safely and conservatively increasing weekly mileage volume.

The run club I started celebrated its 10th birthday.

I took looped routes for longer runs. One morning there was bird that had been trapped in our garage. I freed it and was inspired to listen to Lynyrd Skynyrd for 13 miles.

Life happened. And sometimes it’s best to let life happen, control what you can, and still get out there for a run. Very often a run will solve most of life’s problems. Or at least change your perspective and how you react to the hand that life deals you.

I adhered to specificity in my long runs. I made sure there were a good mix of hills so I’d be prepared for the bridges of the NYC Marathon course. And I made a detour to see Austin’s troll, Malin.

I had a tough week in mid-August when it was time to move our daughter to college. I ran by her old elementary school where I’d drop her off in the mornings and we’d have many conversations about anything and nothing. I kept to the plan and did hill repeats the morning that we were leaving to take her 1,300 miles away.

That same week I thought about my dad on his 88th birthday while we were in Charleston. I had solemn and bittersweet run in the morning in South Hills as kids were outside of their houses, waiting for the bus on the first week of school. I thought about how blazingly fast a childhood goes by for a parent. I had a pace run where I stopped and looked at the college campus where our daughter would now live. This was the morning after she’d decided she’d try spending the night in her new dorm room.

And then there was arguably my most difficult long run, even only at 15 miles. We had to catch a plane to come back home without our oldest. I was dead tired, it was 103º outside, I was listening to the playlist that Elise had created for our child, I’m sure I cried during that run, and I completely bonked at mile 10. I had to run/walk it most of the way home, and I was thankful that had that year+ of coaching the Striders and adapting to the run/walk methodology.

I was admittedly a wreck for the next couple weeks. I missed our daughter. I went on little sentimental runs. I found a spot on my usual route where I’d stop, have a moment, and say a little prayer for my daughter. It was a rough few weeks. But, again, running and training gave me some semblance of normalcy. I stuck to the plan, and it helped to have friends to talk to and remind me that life goes on.

I signed on to be a pacer for the Austin Marathon. So I decided to run the half marathon course for one of my Sunday long runs. Austin is known to be hilly, and I maintained my goal to get stronger on the hills.

I threw in the Zilker Relays after getting recruited to run the anchor leg the day before.

I had one of those runs were I only very vaguely remember it, if at all.

I made a political statement after one of the presidential candidates claimed that illegal immigrants were eating domesticated pets in Ohio.

I made my first 20-miler intentionally very hilly and hard.

Two thirds of my total rattlesnake sightings while on a run happened on one run.

I made my down week long runs hilly and hard. I pushed my allocated time and effort on tempo runs. And I admittedly had a hard to committing to and focusing on maintaining pace on my prescribed MGP runs.

Our daughter came home for a long weekend for the first time since moving to college. I went for my long run after taking her to the airport at 4:00 a.m. True to form, I chose a hilly route in west Austin. It was somewhere out there in Tarrytown that I did something to my left hip.

I deliberately let my hip rest for a few days, and then tested it on a(nother) poorly stubbornly executed run at pace. We were out of town at my mom’s house the weekend of my last peak week, so I ran my last long run in two mile loops with a fast 5 mile pickup at mile 12.

And since my last long run (20+ miles) was flat, I returned to the Barton hills and ran my last pre-taper double-digit long run.

Eighteen weeks doesn’t seem very long, but it can also feel like a lifetime. I can’t capture all the thoughts, emotions, tears, prayers, elation, scares, frustrations, and contemplations in a single post or even a conversation. But I can go back and read and remember and relive. It’s not the same as it was in the moment, but much of life is that way. To go back and look at my training log is like to look at a photo album. It’s just a snapshot of a very short and finite moment in time. There was motion and emotion.

I’ll never remember all of the little details of every run, but it’s the sum of the little moments in running and in life that add up and make it all worth the while.

I don’t know why or how I stumbled across this earlier in the week, but I found my first first race.

This was the 2014 TriRock held here in Austin. My dear friend Harry talked me into joining his relay team. I wish I could remember the name of the lovely gal who swam for us. She was the reason we were participating in this relay. Harry rode the bike. And I ran in this Olympic-distance triathlon. I was barely a year into my running journey and had absolutely no interest in racing at the time. I did it as a favor for Harry.

I’ve always enjoyed running fast and pushing myself, and this was my unwanted opportunity to put my running experience to date (I’m not going to say “training”) to the test. The TriRock was held on September 1th, which means it’s still blazing hot in Austin.

There are some memories and minor details rattling around in my brain from the day, but not really worth recounting here. What I remember was when Harry came out of the exchange zone and it was my time to run, I took off. We were participating the relay division, so it’s not like I had anyone lined up next to me at the start of the run. But, in my mind, we were racing, so, I took off. And my lack of racing experience shows.

I think at around that time of my running journey, I was running in the high-seven and eight minute per mile pace on my daily runs. I went out on my leg of the relay at a sub-7 minute pace. It was 10:00 a.m. in the Texas summer, which I’m sure means the heat index was 100º+, and you could cut the humidity with a knife. And I did a bang up job of exemplifying the dictionary definition of a positive split by way of letting nerves and adrenaline get the best of me, and going out way too fast at the start.

I went out at a 6:42 pace and ended at a 9 minute pace. That’s a very large margin in the 10k. And a great example of why you should keep things reigned in at the start of the race.

Have a plan (and a backup plan. And a backup backup plan.), stick to it, and don’t get caught up in the excitement and energy at the start of a race. It takes quite a bit of patience, discipline, and perhaps some experience to do the latter. There’s music and noise and other people. Your adrenaline naturally spikes because you brain knows your body is about to endeavor upon something difficult. You might find yourself sizing other people up, or second guessing yourself, or feeling intimidated or unworthy. Don’t do that. You’ll hear coaches and other runners say it all the time: Run your own race. Unless, of course, you’re of the talented variety that’s in it for a win, podium, prizes, qualifier, etc.

Running and racing is a mental game. You have to be smart, patient, and confident. Assuming you’ve trained for your race you have to trust in your training and stick to your plan. Don’t get caught up in the hooplah and hubbub at the start line. Zone out. Stare at your shoes. Stare at the sky. Say a prayer. Close your eyes. Whatever it is that you need to do, do it. And practice your pre-gun calming ritual. Make that part of your plan.

If you’re trained, ready, patient, and confident, you shouldn’t run consistent positive mile splits. There can and might be some positive splits in there, and those can be for a myriad of reasons such as hills, fatigue, traffic, bathroom break, and, well, the list could go on and on.

Just don’t go out too fast. I remember the day before my first Boston Marathon, the family and I took a chartered bus tour of the course all the way from Hopkinton into Boston. Our tour guide was a run coach and a 12-time Boston Marathon finisher. He told us, “the course starts out downhill. The first half of the race is fast. It’s the Boston Marathon. It’s crazy and exciting and the most coveted marathon in the world. Everyone is going to go out fast. Let them go. Let that wave go past you. Stick to your plan and pay attention to the bodies flying by you, because those are the bodies you’re going to be climbing over at mile 20 on the hills.”

You’ve got to know when to hold ’em
Know when to fold ’em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run

I made the decision last night, before going to bed, to let myself sleep in this morning and get the rest that I know I’ve needed. And to rest my left hip. The decision was really made because of my hip.

On this past Sunday’s long run I pulled, strained, or just agitated my left hip. It wasn’t alarming or anywhere near debilitating, but I felt it. It was on my recovery run on Monday morning when I knew I definitely had some inflammation and persistent pain. I stayed the course and stuck to the training plan on Tuesday morning, which was a cornerstone 8 x 800 interval workout.

I’m three weeks out from the New York City Marathon and in my third and final peak week of this 18-week training block. And it was just a week and a half ago when I took stock and acknowledged that this has been the best training cycle I’ve had leading up to what will be my tenth marathon. I feel the strongest, most prepared, and most confident that I’ve ever felt leading up to a marathon. I’ve stuck to the plan exactly as it was designed (short of a couple missed easy runs in the early weeks due to my wife’s uncle’s funeral, and moving our daughter to college). I’ve “nailed” every workout, but there was no showboating. I was honest and aggressively conservative. 800’s at 2:50 have felt great, smooth, and with just the right amount of comfortable difficulty. I baked in some shorter and punchier intervals early in the cycle to test and stress different systems. I kept myself honest with my rate of perceived exertion (RPE) in the hill workouts. And I really kept myself honest in my tempo runs, which were all prescribed as a pace that I could sustain at effort for 60 minutes. But what has really given me the majority of confidence and happiness is the combination of volume and how I’ve felt during and after my long runs. I introduced and allowed myself to run a mile or two extra on my peak week long runs, which are generally 20 miles. In these recent peak weeks I’ve been running upwards of 22 miles, and I’ve thrown in anywhere between 2-5 miles of marathon goal pace pickups in the middle of those Sunday long runs. And I’d been topping out at 60-65 miles per week in many of those weeks whereas in previous marathon training blocks I’d top out at a little over 50 miles per week.

I’ve been diligent with warming up and cooling down before key workouts. I’ve given myself the time to do the prescribed drills before track workouts. I stuck to my supplemental body weight strength training twice per week. And, probably most importantly, my head has been in the right space. I’ve felt good mentally for the majority of these past 16 weeks. Even if a run or workout didn’t go as I’d anticipated, I’d accept it, and I’d always find the positives.

And that leads up to right here, right now. I have a pain in my left hip that could impact the rest of this peak week and the taper that starts next week. The final peak week is that last opportunity to gain the necessary fitness and confidence leading up to a big race where I’d lay it all on the line and let the stacking of days on days and weeks and weeks of hard work culminate into what will become the execution of a very specific and calculated plan.

Yesterday and today I could have pushed through the discomfort that I’ve been feeling the past few days, and the noticeable pain that I felt in my third 800 meter repeat this past Tuesday. And the stubborn side of me really considered it. But there’s a risk and tradeoff. I could have pushed through the pain for the sake of an easy 6 mile recovery on Wednesday. Those easy miles could have irritated and inflamed my psoas or piriformis (or whatever it is in my hip that’s prone to irritation and inflammation.) The pain and inflammation subsided significantly as I rested yesterday. And I very likely could have caused more pain, inflammation or worse, damage, today by going out on a dialed-back 45 minute tempo run. But I didn’t, and with experience and now-wisdom, I know that that’s okay, and it was the right decision for me. A Wednesday recovery run and a 45-minute tempo run today would not contribute significantly to my strength and fitness at this point. The risk outweighs the reward. I know that the possibility of further injury outweighs any fitness loss that might occur by intentionally taking two days off. I’d argue that any fitness loss as this point would even be marginally noticeable.

The confidence and strength that I’ve accumulated over these past 16 weeks allow me to feel okay about dealing with a setback. I was talking to Jenny, who has been dealing with two separate injuries during a single marathon training cycle, no run matters. Life happens. Things happen. We have to travel. We have injuries and setbacks and things will often just get in the way. It’s okay. Running imitates life in that in order for us to grow and improve, we have to constantly learn how to adapt and be conscious and smart about how we react to the things that happen to us. While we don’t want things to happen to us and we want our plans to always work in our favor, that’s rarely what actually happens. We have to control what we can and react and adapt thoughfully and intelligently to the things that are out of our control. And I think that acknowledgment and approach is paramount to being successful in running and in life.

I’m reposting Brad Stulberg‘s 10 Rules for Sustaining Excellence because it’s perfect, worth revisiting often, and 100% applicable in running and in life in general.

1. Be the best at getting better:

Being the best is ephemeral; you either get it or you don’t, and then what? But being the best at getting better is a commitment to mastery that lasts a lifetime. The ​arrival fallacy​ is real. If you think if I just achieve _____ or accomplish _____ THEN I’ll be happy, you are in for a rude awakening. The human brain did not evolve to arrive, it evolved to strive. It’s critical to find meaning and satisfaction in the path. If you make the ultimate goal getting better, the rest takes care of itself.

2. Adopt a process over outcomes mindset:

First, set a goal. Then, figure out the discrete steps that are required to go after your goal. Next, largely forget about the goal and focus on nailing the discrete steps instead. If you catch yourself worrying about the goal, use it as a cue to come back into the present moment. Dig where your feet are.

3. Focus on consistency over intensity:

Anyone can go out and bury themselves, crush it for a day, and post to social media. But what leads to enduring progress is the ability to ​show up day in and day out​ for long periods of time. There’s a difference between what looks badass on social media and what is actually a badass performance trajectory.

Small steps taken regularly over time compound for big gains. The goal isn’t to peak on every single day, it’s to develop a rhythm over time. This often means showing a bit of restraint now so you can get more out of yourself in the future.

4. Use behavioral activation:

You don’t need to feel good to get going, you need to get going to give yourself a chance at feeling good. ​Motivation follows action​. There is no need to give yourself a hype speech every morning. When you are feeling highly motivated, ride those waves. But when you aren’t feeling your best, that’s okay too. Don’t freak out. Just get started and give yourself a chance.

5. Respond not react:

Feel your feelings, but don’t attach to them. You can’t always control what happens but you almost always have ​some control over what you do next​. You can either panic and pummel ahead (2P’s) or pause, process, plan, and proceed (4P’s). The latter is usually a better bet.

Take a deep breath. Tell yourself some version of this is what is happening right now, I’m doing the best I can. It’s a practice for in between pitches, in between games, and in between seasons. It’s true in baseball and it’s true in life.

6. If you are going to compare, then compare yourself to prior versions of yourself:

You can’t control what other people are doing. In this day and age, you don’t even know what is real or fake. But you can look back on your own efforts and see if there is a sense of growth and progression. Focus there.

7. Simple does not mean easy (be wary of online gurus):

Complex ideas, theories, and programs are everywhere because they are easy to hide behind and procrastinate with. But if you ​make what you are doing simple​, you either do it or you don’t. This sort of accountability is key to growth and success. Nail the fundamentals. Keep the main things the main things. Ignore hacks, quick fixes, and anyone trying to sell you a secret.

8. Diversify your sense of self:

It’s okay to be all-in, but not all the time. If you fuse your entire self-worth and identity to a single pursuit, it sets you up for a challenging emotional roller coaster ride, and it almost always makes you fragile.

At the same time, “balance” is an illusion. A huge part of what makes life meaningful is giving your all to the things you care about. Evaluating tradeoffs and making sacrifices is part of being a mature adult. But it doesn’t mean becoming unidimensional. You can have ​different seasons of life for different priorities​, and never completely leave behind aspects of your identity that are important.

9. Remember that fierce self-discipline requires fierce self-kindness:

​Doing hard things​ is hard. If you are going to step into the arena and risk failure, it’s important that you ​learn to have your own back​. Your physical health is only as good as your mental health. We are not minds and bodies. We are mind-body systems. Being a badass requires being kind to yourself too.

10. The people around you shape you:

Emotions are ​contagious​. Performance is contagious. Growth is contagious. On your deathbed, you won’t remember the external results; you’ll remember the relationships you forged along the way. There is no such thing as going at it alone. A huge part of sustaining all the mindsets, skills, and practices above is building a supportive community.