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How to run a marathon

How to run a marathon (Post-race reflections) The marathon was three weeks ago and the body is slowly falling back into place. I can’t believe it’s been 19 weeks since I first embarked on this adventure. In the beginning it seemed an impossibility and it was with great trepidation that I began my training. But. . . I have always wanted to run a marathon and with age 60 looming large I knew it was now or never.   I followed the schedule with the aim of increasing my mileage and endurance to the point where I could contemplate going the distance. The long runs became steadily longer   - 60 mins became 70 then 80 then 90. Two hours loomed at the six week mark. The improvement was gradual and I tried not to think about the 36 kms that would be required at the end of week 13. While I learned to push myself just a little bit further with each and every run I still had grave doubts that my 60 year old bod would ever cope with 42.2 kms. The truth was, the runs were hard and I
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The day we ran the marathon

The day we ran the marathon The day before the marathon is a bit of a jittery affair. My friend advises me to hydrate but the more I drink the more I pee. It’s a case of ‘in one end and out the other’. I try to be careful with what I eat but I really don’t feel like eating much. Bread, bananas, a scone, almonds and a nice crunchy apple. I do some window shopping in New Market to pass the time. Then it’s a quick stop at the supermarket for last minute supplies. The race-pack-pick-up, in central Auckland, is more relaxed than I thought it would be. People have time to chat. We try on snazzy gear, take some pics, get talked into buying stuff. We grab brochures on future marathons - London, New York. . . Ha ha! Full of nervous optimism. I leave with several products designed to get me through the 42.2 kms   - most notably a blackcurrant miracle potion that will ‘give me a boost and help me recover’. I’m all for ‘boosting’ of any sort, and ‘recovering’ sounds like a good idea
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Time to taper

Time to taper The big day is nearly here. In the past week my training runs have gone down. And down. And down. Aunty Lydia (running mentor and creator of 16 week schedule) tells me it’s time to taper.   ‘Taper?” I am only learning about this aspect of training for the first time. In the schedule it appears alongside words like ‘easy’ and ‘rest’. The mileage has gone down, the rest days have gone up.   In the dictionary ‘taper’ appears alongside words like   - narrow; wane; die down; dwindle; lessen; recede; subside; abate; diminish; rescind; slacken off. Words that make me feel uneasy. Words that feel like the opposite of what I should be doing.   The crux of this ‘tapering’ lark appears to be to ‘slacken off.’   Which is obviously appealing after 16 weeks of ‘cranking up’. So what, I hear you ask, is my problem?! My problem, I am fast realising, is my need to over-do stuff. To over-prepare. To over-compensate. To always try and do just that ‘little bit more’ than
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What could possibly go wrong?

What could possibly go wrong? I have always been a sucker for self-help books. Think yourself rich. Think yourself thin.   Think yourself able to run 42.2 kms?! Mnnn. . . maybe not   While I am generally a positive person, I am under no illusions that positive thinking alone will get me over the line for 42.2 kms. So I have been thinking about exploring other mindfully helpful options. A book I read recently suggests the complete opposite. It’s a book based on Stoic philosophy that recommends a practice called ‘negative visualisation’. The theory is that you will be happy in your life if you practise thinking the worst. As in, if you ‘think negative’ (like worst possible scenario) then you will at least be prepared when bad things happen. According to this book, before embarking on a marathon, I should be asking myself: What could possibly go wrong? What obstacle could pop up? And where might I face some difficulties?   Lately, I have been having dreams about tur
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The really long run

The really long run (getting ready to go the distance) This week I am preparing for the long run. 28 kms of it, to be exact. Which is a thoroughly epic distance for me. In honour of the occasion I have been preparing all week. Actually, the main thing I have been doing to prepare is NOTHING. I have prescribed myself ‘rest and relaxation’. The injured toe has given me the perfect excuse to do not very much.   But this weekend all that will change. If I want to run this marathon the long run is crucial. There is no escaping it.   During the week my toe has been iced to near extinction, bound in bandaides, and dowsed with anti inflammatories. After such intense treatment   I am hoping it won’t let me down. This practice run will be crucial in determining how my body will cope help with the 42 km challenge in October. Most importantly, it will help me sort out what I need to eat and drink to go the distance. So today I am shopping for supplies.   First on the list is a
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What to do with a broken toe

What to do with a broken toe! It’s week 11 of training. But it’s has been ‘one of those weeks’. It all started with an unexpected head cold. A running nose. A pounding head. A barking cough. Throat on fire. The works.   Then the hubby went off to China for a week, which meant I had to keep the home fires burning on my own. (We have a very labour-intensive fire that requires much hauling of wood -)   I also had lots of extra tutoring to do, which meant long hours at the workplace.   It was all getting bit knackering. Then. . . To top it all off. . .   I think I broke my toe. I know! Careless! Stupid!   Unlucky! It was one of those ridiculous accidents involving a bare right foot, a chair leg and a very innocent little ‘clip’. I didn’t think much of it at the time. A slight shriek, some mad hopping, a few swear words, and that was it. Because it was 8:30 on a Saturday morning and I had a two hour run to complete. There was no time for fuss. This run was har
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Half marathon hype - (or the 21km plod)

It’s the Dunedin half marathon. Here we are, all lined up, at the start line. And its all arms and legs, shoulders and   elbows, knees and shins. Nervous breathing and jogging on the spot, frantic last minute gulps of sports drink.   Calf stretches and hamstring strapping. Heavy sighs and nervous chatter. On your marks Get set   Go! The race is jammed packed and at the start it’s all ‘jostle, jostle, jostle’. It’s a case of finding your pace, calming the nerves and settling in for the race. For me ‘race’ is too strong a word. I don’t actually want to beat anyone here. (Not that I could. LOL) All I want is to go the distance. And going the distance, for me, will require a very long slow plod.   Although I am ready for this, the nerves are firing. My inner coach has leapt to the fore to wave her pointy stick about. As usual, she’s giving me a lecture. Like. . . . “What the heck are you doing, girl??!” “OMG - there are a thousand hills in this race.”   “
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