Race Report: 2016 Big Cottonwood Marathon

On September 10, I ran the Big Cottonwood Marathon near Salt Lake City, UT.  This race has a point-to-point course.  It starts at Guardsman Pass and follows Big Cottonwood Canyon for the first 18 miles, before finishing in Cottonwood Heights.

This race is part of the REVEL race series.  Their signature is fast downhill courses, typically starting in the mountains and finishing in a nearby city.  I’ve done the REVEL Rockies Marathon in Colorado twice, so I had a good idea what to expect.  This race has a similar elevation profile.

The elevation at the start is 9,696 feet, and the elevation at the finish is only 4,441 feet.  That’s a net descent of 5,255 feet.  If you’re keeping score at home, that’s almost a mile of descent.  Most of that comes in the first 18 miles.

When I registered for this race, I didn’t know if I would still need a Boston qualifier.  As it turns out, I was able to qualify at the Super Tunnel Marathon in August, but this was a chance to get a faster qualifying time.  It was also an opportunity to get my second sub four hour marathon in Utah.

While steep downhill courses like this have the potential to be fast, it doesn’t always work out that way.  Running downhill for mile after mile can be tricky.  It’s hard on your legs.  If you do enough downhill training and learn how to run downhill efficiently, a course like this can be lightning fast.  If you aren’t ready for it, though, it can really beat up your legs.  Then the late miles can be slow and painful, offsetting the fast early miles.

When I ran the Rockies Marathon in 2014, I did sufficient downhill training.  I ran that race in 3:08, which is by far my fastest race of the last few years.  When I returned in 2015, I was injured, and I didn’t have sufficient downhill training.  I started fast, but finished slow.  Even still, my time of 3:51 on that course was faster than anything else I did last summer.

I didn’t run on Thursday or Friday, but I did some strength training on Thursday.  During one of my exercises, I felt some discomfort in my right foot.  I felt something similar two weeks earlier, but it felt fine after two rest days.  It didn’t feel as bad this time, but I only had one rest day before the race.  That made me a little nervous.

Thursday night, I started to notice my foot again during the night.  I usually sleep on my stomach, so my feet tend to flatten out against the mattress.  I rolled onto my side so I could keep my foot in a more relaxed position.  Then I felt some soreness near my right hip.  I really worked my hips on Thursday, so I wasn’t too surprised at first that those muscles would be sore.

The next time I woke up, I had stiffness and noticeable soreness in my right foot and ankle, the right side of by butt, and the right side of my leg.  I was sleeping on that side, so I rolled over to my other side.  My leg and butt continued to hurt, making it hard to get back to sleep.  I was surprised to have soreness in my right calf.  I didn’t do any exercises that work those muscles.  I wondered if I had a pinched nerve.  I couldn’t think of any other reason I would have pain in every muscle my right side.

Thursday morning, I was walking with a slight limp.  My right leg gradually loosened up, but the right side of my butt still hurt.  It felt like I might have pulled something.  I had doubts about the wisdom of doing  this race.

I flew to Salt Lake City on Friday.  When I got to the airport, my right foot was still bothering me.  I had a slight limp at first, but it got better.  By the time I boarded my flight, I was walking normally again.  By the time I arrived in Salt Lake City, my leg felt normal, but my foot still didn’t feel quite right.

I stayed in Midvale, which is right next to Cottonwood Heights.  My hotel was within a mile of the finish line.  After checking in, I only had to drive a few miles to get to the expo at South Towne Expo Center in Sandy.

Later, I had dinner with other runners at Romano’s Macaroni Grill.  One of the pre-race traditions is a “red carpet” contest for the most creative ensemble of throwaway clothes.  This year’s winner was Stacy.

I had to prepare for a wide variation in temperatures.  In Salt Lake City, the overnight low was about 50, but the temperature climbs quickly once the sun is up.  By the time I finished, I could expect it to be in the upper 60s with sunny skies.  Meanwhile, up at Guardsman Pass, early morning temperatures were much colder.  For each 1,000 of elevation change, you can expect the temperature to be about 3.5 degrees cooler.  Using that rule of thumb, I expected the temperature at the start to be in the low 30s.

That gave me a tough choice.  If I wore shorts, my legs would be freezing in the early miles.  If I wore tights, I would overheat in the late miles.  I was tempted to wear tights, even knowing I would be hot in the late miles.  On the advice of my friend Angie, who does this race every year, I stuck with shorts.  I also wore a fairly warm T-shirt, a Tyvek jacket and gloves.  I also had a layer of warm-up clothes.

To get to the start, I parked near the finish and took a bus up to Guardsman Pass.  I could have walked to where the busses were loading, but I didn’t know if I would be able to walk back to the hotel after the race.  The race started at 6:45, but I had to catch a bus between 4:00 and 5:00.  That meant getting up awfully early, but I’m getting used to that.  I was impressed with the efficiency of the parking.  There are numerous ramps and lots near the bus loading area, and there were dozens of volunteers with lighted batons, to direct us to the parking.

I met several friends in the bus loading area, and we all rode to the start on the same bus.  After the busses dropped us off at Guardsman Pass, we had to wait in the cold and dark for about an hour until the race started.  The race provided gloves and Mylar blankets.  They also had a gear check, so you could have your warm-up clothes transported to the finish.  After making bathroom stops, a few of us found a place to sit on the grass.

Even with all the layers I was wearing, I was freezing in the start area.  I regretted that I didn’t wear tights, which would have given me an extra layer on my legs.   I wrapped my Mylar blanket around my legs and butt, but my upper body was still cold, even with three layers.  Eventually, I wrapped another Mylar blanket around my upper body.

About 10 minutes before the start, we posed for a Marathon Maniacs group photo.  That gave me only a few minutes to remove my warm-up layers, check my bag, and line up.  After checking my bag, I heard an announcement that it was one minute to the start.  I was still behind everyone, so I had to rush to get into position.  I was originally planning to pay attention to where various pace groups were lining up.  Instead, I had to move as far forward as I could before the gun went off.

My time goals were somewhat soft.  Because I already had a Boston qualifier for 2017, I went into this race without too much pressure.  Ideally, it would have been nice to get a faster qualifying time for Boston.  A time of 3:35 or faster would let me register during the first week.  Mostly, I just wanted to make sure I broke four hours.  I’m trying to complete a second 50sub4 circuit, and Utah was one of the states I still needed.  Beyond that, I could afford to just run a pace that felt comfortable.  I didn’t want to injure myself by forcing the pace on the steep downhill miles.

I didn’t know how fast I would start, nor did I have any pace in mind.  As I started running, I tried to keep a few things in mind.  First, I wanted to keep my legs relaxed and not resist the hill.  I did a good job of that.  Second, I wanted to keep my legs moving quickly, so I wouldn’t over-stride.  The first time I did a steep downhill race like this, I had a flare-up of Achilles tendonitis after the race.  By keeping my stride short, I could avoid putting undue strain on my Achilles tendons.  I apparently didn’t do this as well.  More on that later.  Finally, I want to run with a slight forward lean.

The forward lean was the advice of my physical therapist.  It forces me to use my glutes, which helps reduce the strain on my adductors and hamstrings.  Leaning forward while running downhill also helps you run faster – whether you want to or not!  I practiced this a lot in training, but it proved to be difficult during the race.

The first three miles were on Guardsman Pass Road.  These were the steepest miles of the race.  Even without leaning forward, I felt like I couldn’t control my speed.  I made peace with that, and tried to keep my legs relaxed.  My pace for these three miles varied between 7:15 and 7:30.

Once I started running, the cold conditions seemed manageable.  I knew the temperature would rise as we descended, so I assumed my legs would be OK with the cold.  I no longer regretted wearing shorts.  Now I felt that wearing tights would have been a mistake, since I knew they would be too hot in the late miles.

After three miles, we turned onto Big Cottonwood Canyon Road, but instead of going downhill, we were running it in the uphill direction to get to the small resort town of Brighton.  We were still about 8,500 feet above sea level.  At that elevation, hills feel steeper than they really are.

My pace slowed, but I was still getting out of breath.  I had to break up the hill by taking a 30 second walking break.  I chugged slowly up the rest of the hill to reach an aid station.

I was conflicted about how to drink at aid stations while running downhill.  I wasn’t sure if it was better to stop briefly or try to drink on the run.  I had no such dilemma at this aid station.  As I drank my Powerade, I happily used it as an excuse to walk for a few more seconds.

Next we ran a loop around the town.  It was mostly flat, but at this elevation, it was still tiring.  I was able to run it, but I was slow.  Then we began to descend again.  Before completing the loop, I saw the four mile sign.  My time for that mile was 9:52, but overall, my average pace was just under eight minutes per mile.

As we left Brighton, we got back onto Big Cottonwood Canyon Road, but now we were running it in the downhill direction.  The grade on Big Cottonwood Canyon Road was more uniform.  I got into a comfortable rhythm and continued logging miles that were just under eight minutes per mile.

If I continued this pace all the way through the canyon, I would have a good chance of breaking 3:35.  Once I got that thought into my head, it was hard to shake it.  I may have been subconsciously pushing the pace a little.

As I ran, I occasionally took stock of how I felt.  The foot that worried me before the race wasn’t bothering me at all now.  Running so fast downhill caused a little discomfort in the muscles around my right hip, but that gradually went away as the race progressed.  I had a “hot spot” on the bottom of my right foot, and I knew that would eventually develop into a painful blister.  That wasn’t a long-term concern, so I did my best to ignore it.  More troubling was a feeling of tension in my left Achilles tendon.  I was probably over-striding and putting too much strain on my Achilles tendons.  That became my biggest concern.

I expected to get warmer, but so far I wasn’t.  Some of the muscles in my legs felt tight.  Then I realized they weren’t tight; they were cold.  They were ice cold.  More and more muscles in my legs began to feel that way.

After about eight miles, I found myself slowing down.  I didn’t feel fatigued or short of breath, but my legs just didn’t seem like they were working very good.  I think the cold was affecting them.  I once again regretted wearing shorts.  Tights might make me hot later, but they would have kept my legs warm enough in the canyon.

My next mile took more than nine minutes, even though it was all downhill.  With effort, I managed to get my pace closer to eight minutes over the next few miles, but I really had to work at it.  I would pay for that effort later in the race.

As I continued descending through the canyon, it gradually got warmer, and my legs finally thawed out.  Over the next few miles, I started to notice patches of sun.  I felt warmer in the sun, but I got cold again when I returned to the shade.  After about 12 miles, I finally reached a long sunny patch that wasn’t as steep.  I finally took off my Tyvek jacket and tied it around my waist.  I kept my gloves on for a few more miles.

I started to notice other “hot spots” on my feet.  I also noticed some tightness in my right Achilles tendon.  In my left ankle, I was feeling the tension all the way up into my calf muscle.

I reached the halfway mark in 1:44:41.  I was still averaging eight minutes per mile overall, but not for much longer.

Usually, when I get to 14 miles, I start to count down the remaining miles to the finish.  Instead I counted down the remaining downhill miles before we reached the end of the canyon.  I had four more.  My legs no longer felt cold, but they were beginning to feel stiff.  I couldn’t run downhill as efficiently.  I was slowing down.

By now, I realized I wasn’t going to break 3:35.  I wondered if I should forget about that and just pay attention to breaking four hours.  I could still expect to do that easily.

I reached the 15 mile mark in 2:00:07.  That’s just seven seconds slower than my 15 mile split at the Super Tunnel Marathon three weeks ago, but this race has a tougher finish.  As I stopped to drink at an aid station, the 3:35 pace group passed me.  I expected them to pass me eventually, but I was surprised it was this soon.  I was still almost on pace for 3:30.  Then it occurred to me that they weren’t running an even pace.  They were going faster in the canyon in anticipation of slowing down when the course leveled off.

The next mile was steeper, and I found myself catching up to the 3:35 group.  Then I got to the “16 miles” sign and saw my time.  That mile was 8:38.  Even going downhill, I was now going too slow to break 3:35.  I focused on just finishing the race and breaking four hours.

By now it was getting warm enough that I needed to take off my gloves.  Then the 3:40 pace group passed me.  I wasn’t even to the tough part of the course yet, and I was slowing noticeably.

As I reached the mouth of the canyon, the scenery changed.  Up until now, we were always surrounded by mountains.  Now I could see the broad Salt Lake Valley in front of me.  I started to see the outskirts of the city.

I reached the 18 mile mark in 2:26:24.  The fast part of the course was over.  Now it was going to get tough.  It was about 60 degrees, and there was no longer any shade.  As the crow flies, I was about three miles from the finish, but first I had to do a five mile out-and-back segment.

I made the turn onto Wasatch Blvd. to begin the out-and-back.  This was the toughest part of the course.  It was gentle rolling hills, with no net elevation change.  The elevation here was just below 5,000 feet.  I had to work much harder just to keep moving, much less run at the same pace.

My next mile was about 9:30.  I don’t recall exactly.  Then I ran the 20th mile in 10:20.  At that pace, I would break four hours easily, but I was surprised how much I was slowing down from one mile to the next.

As I continued along Wasatch Blvd., I got good views of the downtown buildings.  After what seemed like forever, I reached the turnaround.  As I came back, I could see the 3:45 group going out.  It was only a matter of time before they caught me too.  At best, I might finish in 3:50, but even that seemed doubtful.

In the canyon, the aid stations were two miles apart.  Here, they were every mile.  I need the extra fluids.  I was getting really hot now.  As cold as I was earlier, I was once again glad I didn’t wear tights.  I neglected to check my watch at 21 miles, but when I reached 22, I saw I was running slower than 11 minutes per mile.  By now, I could afford to average as much as 12:30 in the remaining miles.  As much as I was struggling, I couldn’t see myself running that slowly.  My legs were dead, but I could press on.

If you trash your quads running through the canyon, you can find yourself struggling with small hills later on.  That didn’t seem to be my problem.  My quads weren’t that sore.  I was just running out of gas.  I pushed too hard in the middle miles, and now I had nothing left.  I was “hitting the wall.”

When I finished the out-and-back, I made the right turn onto Fort Union Blvd., which would take me to the finish.  Now I had just over three miles to go.  From here, the course, once again had a downhill trend, but it was nothing like the canyon.  Here, it was a gentle grade.  It wasn’t enough to help me pick up the pace, but it was enough to help me keep moving.

I missed the mile markers for 24 and 25, so I couldn’t check my pace.  I had already been passed by three pace groups.  I didn’t want the 3:55 group to catch me.  When I finally got within sight of the finish line, I was relieved.  I finished in 3:53:11.

After the race, I hung out briefly in the finish area with a few friends who had already finished.  Post-race food included pizza and pancakes.  We also got a small box of pancake mix in our race packets.  I’ll have to make them after I get home.

Sometimes after finishing a race, it’s tough to walk.  I was pleasantly surprised to find out that my quads weren’t that bad.  My only immediate concern was my left Achilles tendon.  As soon as I could, I walked outside the finish area where I could kneel down on the grass and stretch.  After stretching, it felt better.

When I got back to the hotel, I did more stretching and took stock of my minor aches and pains.  My left Achilles tendon felt tight, but I was able to walk without discomfort.  I only had one blister.  That was a pleasant surprise.  The foot that was bothering me before the race, wasn’t a problem during the race and still felt OK afterwards.  I had some soreness in my glutes, but I think that’s actually a good sign.  I wanted to use my glutes more to reduce the strain on my quads, hamstrings and adductors.  Apparently, I did.  I didn’t have any noticeable soreness in my adductors or hamstrings.  My quads were a little bit sore, but no more than I would expect after a “normal” marathon.  I didn’t trash them.

In the afternoon, I met several friends, and we drove up Little Cottonwood Canyon to get to Snowbird Ski Resort.  They were having an Oktoberfest celebration.

We sat down under a big tent to have food and beer, while listening to the polka band.  Then we went outside to sit on the grass and enjoy the view.

After a good night’s sleep, I again took stock of how I felt.  I have some soreness in my quads, but not as much as I expected.  I actually have more soreness in my glutes.  I’m keeping a close eye on my Achilles’ tendon, but I think it’ll be fine in a few days.  It feels tight after I’ve been sitting, but feels better after stretching.  It doesn’t bother me walking, so I’m optimistic it’ll be fine in plenty of time for my next race.  My foot still feels fine.

I feel I had a successful race, despite pacing myself poorly.  I didn’t get a faster time for Boston, but I did break four hours.  More importantly, I got through this race without a major injury.  My next two races will be nice and flat.  I just need to take it easy for a few days, so the minor aches and pains can heal.

Was It Worth It?

Last summer, I had to make some tough choices.  After a groin injury in early May, I only had a few weeks to heal before the Comrades Marathon.  That wasn’t enough time, and there was no way I was going to miss that race.  It’s an expensive trip, and the flights were already booked.  Besides, it was my only change to run the “down” and “up” courses in back-to-back years.

With 20K to go, my leg started to bother me.  To finish, I had to put a compression wrap on my right thigh.  It was slow going for the rest of the race, but I finished.  I got my back-to-back medal, and my time was still good enough for a bronze medal.  Running that race set back my recovery, but I have absolutely no regrets about that decision.

My next scheduled race was the Bighorn Mountain 100 in Wyoming.  I had three weeks between races.  Again, that wasn’t enough time to heal.  I decided to go ahead with that race, knowing I wasn’t fully healed.  I knew it was a bad idea, but skipping that race seemed unthinkable.  I had a heartbreaking DNF there a year earlier, after falling into a stream during the night.  I was going back for redemption.

Well, I didn’t redeem myself.  After 30 miles, I realized I wasn’t going to finish so I dropped out before I made my leg any worse.  That was a smart decision.  Starting the race wasn’t.  If I could go back and do one differently, I would skip the Bighorn Mountain 100.  Had I done that, I might have been able to recover before my July races.  Instead, I set back my recovery again.

Starting with the first weekend of July, I had races scheduled almost every weekend.  I was pursuing multiple long-term goals.  One was to run at least 51 marathons or ultras for the third straight year.  Another was to finish my 300th marathon or ultra at the Harpeth Hills Flying Monkey Marathon in November.  Another was to finish my second circuit of marathons in all 50 states at the Honolulu Marathon in December.

If I could have healed by skipping one or two races, I would have.  At this point, I needed at least six weeks off to heal.  In July, that would have meant skipping at least six races.  I could find a way to make up for one or two races.  I couldn’t make up that many.

I also didn’t want to eat the travel expenses.  Most of the races were out of state, and the flights were already booked.  I had international trips scheduled in July, September, October and November.  There’s no way I could take a six week break without cancelling at least one international trip.  Did I mention the flights were already booked?

At the beginning of July, I made a big decision.  I committed to finishing the rest of my race schedule, even though I knew my injury wouldn’t begin healing until I took a break in December.

This decision was based on two assumptions.  First, I assumed I would somehow find a way to finish each race.  If, at some point, I couldn’t stay on schedule, it would not have been worth it to try.  I also assumed I wasn’t doing any permanent damage.  It might take a long time, but eventually I would heal.

It was tougher than I thought.  By the middle of July, I had to wrap my right leg with an elastic bandage.  That threw off my stride and put undue stress on my left leg.  Before long, both legs had similar injuries.  At times, I could barely walk.

I was no longer doing any real training between races.  That led to an unexpected problem.  I started experiencing stiffness and cramps in both legs, mostly at night.  Apparently, I need to run, or I have circulation problems.

By the end of September, lack of training caught up to me.  My times deteriorated until I was no longer capable of finishing a marathon in five hours.

More than once, circumstances outside my control caused me to miss a race.  Each time, I found another race I could fit into my schedule.  That sometimes meant doing two races in one weekend.  Sometimes it meant running a 50K instead of a marathon.  I did whatever I had to.

When all was said and done, I reached my goals.  I ran my 300th marathon or ultra at the Harpeth Hills Flying Monkey Marathon.

Three weeks and six races later I finished the Honolulu Marathon.  That was my 51st race of the year and my second 50 states finish.

I somehow finished my races and reached my goals.  That means it was worth it, right?  Not so fast.  There’s still the matter of not doing any permanent damage.  By the end of the year, I wasn’t so sure.

I originally assumed I would need to take it easy for six to eight weeks.  I naively assumed I could still run about 10 miles a week, if I wrapped my legs and went easy.  I was wrong.

By early January, I realized I wasn’t getting better.  I needed complete rest.  I saw my doctor to find out if there was more damage than I realized.  That led to X-rays, an MR arthrogram, a consultation with an orthopedist, and physical therapy.

There was good news and bad news.  The good news is that I didn’t have any permanent damage.  In fact, my injuries were mostly healed.  The bad news is that I had been walking and running with an unorthodox gait for so long that several different muscle groups were now too weak.  I was no longer capable of walking or running normally.  I needed to rebuild several muscles before I could run at all.

There was also the matter of my stiff legs and cramps.  When I was still running marathons, I was at least getting some exercise.  Now I wasn’t getting any.  I didn’t just have issues at night.  Now my legs stiffened up any time I sat down for more than a few minutes.  Getting out of a chair and beginning to walk was a process.  I had to do several slow deliberate motions to gradually stimulate circulation in my legs before I could begin to walk.

I had always assumed this was related to my Raynaud’s Syndrome, but I didn’t know for sure.  My doctor ran numerous blood tests to rule out anemia and various nutritional deficiencies.  He eventually came to the same conclusion.  He prescribed a medication that helped, but the symptoms didn’t go away completely.  It was about half as bad as before.  I had to have faith that if I could get back to running regularly, it would stimulate better circulation and make the symptoms go away completely.  For the time being, though, I wasn’t ready to run.

After a month of PT, I got the green light to begin training.  At first, it was tough to run with any kind of reasonable stride.  I had to really force myself to use my hips.  Even as my form improved, I still couldn’t run fast.  My top speed was about 11 minutes per mile.  That wasn’t my top speed for a marathon.  That was my top speed for a sprint.  For distance runners, oxygen transport is usually the thing that limits you.  If you run too fast, you get out of breath.  Not me.  I couldn’t run fast enough to get short of breath.  My clunky mechanics and weak muscles held me back.  It was like my legs just didn’t work.

I had to have faith that if I kept up the PT, eventually my glutes would get stronger, and I would once again develop a faster stride.  It took time, but eventually I saw improvement.

In the meantime, the Boston Marathon was coming up.  I had already cancelled plans to run two marathons in February.  I didn’t want to skip Boston.  This was my fifth consecutive Boston Marathon, and I wanted to keep that steak alive.

I wasn’t really in shape for it, but I managed to finish this year’s Boston Marathon in 5:08.  To qualify for next year, I would need to bring my time down to at least 3:40 by mid-September.  I had my doubts.

Since then, I’ve kept up my training, I’ve kept up my PT, and I’ve seen steady improvement in my marathons times.  I had a big breakthrough at the Med City Marathon in late May, finishing in 4:19.  That’s when I realized I had a realistic chance of qualifying for next year.

As my glutes got stronger, I was able to run faster, if only briefly.  I pushed myself to run at my old marathon race pace for one minute on a treadmill.  That used to be my “all day” pace.  Now it felt like I was sprinting.  Still, it was a start.  Before long, I could run that pace for a mile, then two miles, then four miles, and eventually for an hour.  Then it was time to push the pace a little faster.

Objectively, I could see improvement, but nothing was easy.  Running was always hard work from the first mile.  I was always stiff or sore.  I really missed the days when I could go out for a run for the sheer enjoyment of it.  Now, even runs that should have been easy were hard work.  I kept at it though.

At some point in the last few months, I realized my legs were no longer getting stiff during the night.  More recently, I realized they also weren’t getting stiff after long periods of sitting.  I felt normal again.  Apparently, I was finally running enough for my circulation to improve.

All the hard work paid off two weeks ago when I qualified for Boston at the Super Tunnel Marathon.  My time of 3:36:39 was a Boston qualifier with 3:21 to spare.  That should be good enough to get me into next year’s race, but I’ll try for a faster time at the Big Cottonwood Marathon.

I’m still haven’t reached the fitness level I had before, but I have the tools to get there.  I’m able to train.  For years, I was already in good shape and only needed to maintain my fitness.  Getting in shape from scratch is much harder.  I’m willing to do the work.  I just wanted to have the chance again.

This week, the final piece fell into place.  Thursday I ran 10 miles, and it was easy.  I wasn’t going very fast, but that’s OK.  It was the first time in more than a year that I ran that distance and never felt like I was working.  I ran another 10 miles on Friday.  It was the first time this year that I ran 10 miles on consecutive days.  I feel like a runner again.

I finally have all my answers.  I didn’t do any permanent damage.  I was able to recover.  I’m not in peak shape yet, but I can get there.  My circulation problems did, in fact, go away once I was able to get enough exercise.

The last year wasn’t easy, but it was worth it.  I have no regrets.  Sometimes I push myself too hard, but you can never know your limits if you don’t test them.

Today's Run was Both Routine and Remarkable

Today, I went for a run.  In some ways, today’s run was routine.  In other ways, today’s run was remarkable.

Let me back up and put this in context.  I used to follow training plans.  I would spend several months getting in shape for a marathon.  Then I’d take it easy for at least a month before beginning to train for another marathon.

Eventually, I learned to write my own training plans.  I’d figure out how many weeks I had until my next race and work backwards.  I’d start by figuring out when I needed to do my long runs.  They formed the outline of my training plan.  Then I’d fill in the day to day stuff.

As I became a frequent marathoner, I started using marathons as my long training runs.  Then I just needed to fill in the day to day stuff.  I also had to make another adjustment.  I no longer had the luxury of tapering for the last three weeks before a race.  I also no longer had the luxury of taking it easy for a few weeks after a race.  When you’re doing a marathon every other weekend (or every weekend), you have to train through the races.  Each race was also a long training run for the next one.

Now, even more than before, I was making it up as I went.  I could plan the races, but I couldn’t plan the day to day stuff too far ahead.  I filled in the details one week at a time.  Even then, I sometimes had to make adjustments.  I got in the habit of asking myself “what’s the best thing I can do today to get myself ready for my next big race?”

That brings us to this week.  Sometimes the answer to that question is, “rest.”  This week I took two unscheduled rest days.

Since February, I’ve been doing physical therapy to strengthen my hips, glutes, adductors and core.  After a two month break to heal from injuries, I started training at the beginning of March.  I had no aerobic base.  I also couldn’t run properly.  I had to relearn how to run.  I needed to make more progress with PT before I was strong enough to run properly.

My PT exercises always push me to my limit.  If the exercises start to get easy, my therapist gives me tougher ones.  I realized quickly that I shouldn’t try to run and do PT on the same day.  They both used the same muscles.  If I ran first, I couldn’t do PT with proper form.  If I did PT first, I couldn’t run with proper form.

Obviously, that limited how often I could run.  At first, I alternated between running days and PT days.  More recently, in an effort to pick up my mileage, I switched to two running days for each PT day.

I’ve been making good progress with both the PT and the running, but this week I had a small setback.  Monday was a PT day.  I felt fine while I was doing my exercises, but later in the day, I noticed some discomfort around my right ankle.  I’d stop short of saying it hurt, but it didn’t feel right.  It seemed like there was no elasticity.

I do most of my exercises one leg at a time.  Some of them are done in a standing position, so I’m supporting my weight on one leg as I do them.  My best guess is that I twisted my ankle slightly while doing one of these exercises.

My ankle still didn’t feel right on Tuesday, so I took a rest day.  That meant I would fall short of my mileage goal for August, but it was more important to make sure I didn’t make the ankle worse.  My next race is mostly downhill.  It’s going to put a lot of stress on my legs and joints, so I need to be 100 percent.

Wednesday morning, I felt better, but I still didn’t quite feel normal.  I took another rest day.  It was my third straight day without running.  Not only did I fall short of my August mileage goal, but I took a noticeable step backwards from July.  I used to obsess too much about mileage goals.  Having made mistakes in the past, I’m more cautious now.  There will be other months to rebuild my mileage base, but I needed to stay healthy.

This morning, the ankle felt normal.  I decided to run today, but nothing stressful.  I set out to run 10 miles at a casual pace.  My route had a few hills, but it wasn’t unusually hilly, and I wasn’t planning to take them too hard.  I just wanted to get in some easy miles.  It was like taking my legs out for a test drive.

At this point, I need to point out that 10 miles used to be routine.  When I was healthy, well-trained, and racing every weekend, I made 10 miles my minimum distance.  I did that so I could rest on the days before and after races, but still run 60+ miles a week.  If I wasn’t pushing the pace, 10 miles was effortless.  More often than not, my mind would wander.  I would enter a meditative state, where running effortlessly allowed me to clear my mind of everyday stress.

That was then.  This is now.  When I resumed running last March, 10 miles wasn’t routine.  I had to build up to it.  It was a “long run.”  Eventually, I got to the point where 10 miles didn’t feel like a marathon, but it still wasn’t easy.

Most of my runs this summer have been in the range of six to eight miles.  Often I’d tell myself, “If I feel good, I’ll run 10 miles.”  I rarely did.  I’ve always preferred to run in the late afternoon.  I do that even in the summer.  I challenge myself to adapt to summer heat.  It’s always tough at first, but usually gets easier by the middle of July.  This year, running in the heat never got that easy.  Maybe it’s because I was still out of shape at the start of the summer.  Maybe it’s because I’m not running as many miles as I used to.  I sometimes ran 10 miles, but it wasn’t routine, and it certainly wasn’t effortless.

Because I had two rest days, I started today’s run with fresh legs.  I started at a comfortable pace.  I didn’t plan to pick up the pace.  If I felt good, I’d run 10 miles.  I started with a 1.75 mile loop through my neighborhood.  After stopping to drink some water, I ran the same loop again.  So far, that was 3.5 miles.  After another water stop, I set out on an out-and-back course that’s 6.6 miles.  That would give me a total of 10.1 miles.  I still felt good.

So far, my ankle still felt normal.  Because my out-and-back route has a few hills, I wanted to pay close attention to how my ankle felt running downhill.  I wasn’t planning to run hard, but I usually focus on form.  That includes a slight forward lean going downhill.  That usually makes me speed up, whether or not I’m trying to run fast.

Here’s where my routine run became remarkable.  My mind started to wander.  That hasn’t happened all year.  I’m always focused on form.  Even when I run slowly, it never feels easy.  There always enough effort and attention to detail that I can’t relax.  Today, that changed.

For most of those last 6.6 miles, my mind was floating from one topic to the next.  I wasn’t paying attention to my form.  I wasn’t paying attention to how I felt.  I was just running, and it was effortless.

I have no idea how my ankle felt on the hills.  I have no idea if I was going fast on the downhill.  I don’t actually remember the hills.  I don’t remember running at all.  It just happened.  I remember each place where I needed to cross a major street.  I remember having to wait for traffic.  I remember reaching the turnaround point.  That’s it.  I was oblivious to the actual running.

Being able to float through most of my run and let my mind wander is something I’ve missed.  Up until today, every run was hard work.  I couldn’t actually enjoy it.  I’ve finally got that back.

There was one other thing about today’s run that was remarkable.  I can still remember the first time I ran 10 miles without feeling like it was difficult to finish.  That was about 20 years ago.  I always felt like that was a big milestone.  You need to reach a certain fitness level before running 10 miles can be effortless, even at a slow pace.

After my run, I realized I didn’t remember most of it.  That’s when I realized I was never working hard.  I had a 10 mile run that was effortless.  I’m still not as fit as I used to be, but I reached an important milestone today.