Twenty Reasons to Celebrate
Last Saturday, I ran 20 miles—20.32 actually.
This is a milestone (unintentional wordplay, honestly) that I never thought I'd achieve, or even want to. So I want to take a little time to savor and reflect on this achievement.
And of course, the best way that I know how to do that is by blogging about it, so I can share on Facebook.
Yes, there were the "Day Of" posts on Facebook, both to my whole Facebook universe and just to my first time Marathon runners group. It was hard to decide what to post to what audience—all of Facebook got my sweaty selfie (see above), while the runners group was treated to a link to my running stats (Average pace: 10:20 min/mile).
And yes, there was also contemplative, celebratory drinking. Surprisingly, the drinking didn't commence until several hours after my run. I knew that once the libations began flowing, my day would be pretty much done, so I took a nap instead.
When I did start drinking, I had Sazeracs at Monte Carlo's. Be it now decreed that Sazeracs are the official "Amy Ran 20 Miles" drink to be enjoyed whenever I run 20 miles and/or want to impress the masses with stories of my 20 miles triumph.
Whenever I run 20 miles? Indeed, not only did I run 20 miles, but I plan to do it TWO more times as part of my training for the marathon. Actually, my training plan goes by time, not miles, but I have two more 3:30 hour runs scheduled in the plan so I'm hopeful that I'll be able to do about 20 miles again during both those runs.
A 20-mile run is important for many marathoners-in-training, although not everyone in the running world agrees that doing a 20 mile, or more, training run is a good idea. I won't try to delve into the controversy here. I've picked (or rather Chad did) a training plan and I'm sticking with it.
Why 20? As marathon coach Gina Simmering-Lanterman said,"...knowing you that you can run 20 miles helps you wrap your head around running 26.2." (No, Ms. Simmering-Lanterman—what a name—is not a personal friend, or even a Facebook one, I just found her sage advice on the googles).
It certainly is a psychological boost to me to know that I have run 20 miles. Even though the last 6.2 of a marathon are reputedly the hardest, achieving a 20 mile run makes 26.2 seem plausible. AND after you run 20 miles you get to drink Sazeracs and tell everyone you're awesome (see above).
Twenty miles is also an important distance to experience because that's when many marathoners encounter the dreaded phenomenon of "Hitting the Wall." No, this wall, thankfully, has nothing to do with Trump. It has do with science and whatnot, so suffice it to say it's the distance where many people feel like they just can't go on. Apparently famous marathoner Kenny Moore described it as "It's not the pain of a burning stovetop...it feels like weight that can't be borne, panic that can't be controlled." (I actually got this out of a real printed-on-paper book, "Running Snob" by Kevin Nelson).
Huh. Well, at 20.32 miles I was REALLY happy to stop running, but I certainly hadn't reached this physical/existential crisis. Actually, I think I felt more tired and sore yesterday after *only* 16.7 miles. I know I've felt as tired, or more, after some half marathon races (13.1 miles). But running depends on so many variables...weather, pace, sleep, hydration, hills, recent bourbon consumption, how pleased the running deities were with your most recent sacrifice, etc. etc.
On marathon day I may hit The Wall at 20.4 miles, or 24 miles, or 4 miles. It's pretty easy to psych myself out with all the things that could go wrong, which is why it's important for me to appreciate that no matter what else happens, it's pretty cool that I've come this far.
Luckily, there are a lot less variables to celebratory drinking. I'm pretty sure I can excel at that.
This is a milestone (unintentional wordplay, honestly) that I never thought I'd achieve, or even want to. So I want to take a little time to savor and reflect on this achievement.
And of course, the best way that I know how to do that is by blogging about it, so I can share on Facebook.
 |
| I think I look super white because of the sunscreen. |
And yes, there was also contemplative, celebratory drinking. Surprisingly, the drinking didn't commence until several hours after my run. I knew that once the libations began flowing, my day would be pretty much done, so I took a nap instead.
When I did start drinking, I had Sazeracs at Monte Carlo's. Be it now decreed that Sazeracs are the official "Amy Ran 20 Miles" drink to be enjoyed whenever I run 20 miles and/or want to impress the masses with stories of my 20 miles triumph.
Whenever I run 20 miles? Indeed, not only did I run 20 miles, but I plan to do it TWO more times as part of my training for the marathon. Actually, my training plan goes by time, not miles, but I have two more 3:30 hour runs scheduled in the plan so I'm hopeful that I'll be able to do about 20 miles again during both those runs.
 |
| My run route and stats. Why yes, it is fascinating. |
Why 20? As marathon coach Gina Simmering-Lanterman said,"...knowing you that you can run 20 miles helps you wrap your head around running 26.2." (No, Ms. Simmering-Lanterman—what a name—is not a personal friend, or even a Facebook one, I just found her sage advice on the googles).
It certainly is a psychological boost to me to know that I have run 20 miles. Even though the last 6.2 of a marathon are reputedly the hardest, achieving a 20 mile run makes 26.2 seem plausible. AND after you run 20 miles you get to drink Sazeracs and tell everyone you're awesome (see above).
Twenty miles is also an important distance to experience because that's when many marathoners encounter the dreaded phenomenon of "Hitting the Wall." No, this wall, thankfully, has nothing to do with Trump. It has do with science and whatnot, so suffice it to say it's the distance where many people feel like they just can't go on. Apparently famous marathoner Kenny Moore described it as "It's not the pain of a burning stovetop...it feels like weight that can't be borne, panic that can't be controlled." (I actually got this out of a real printed-on-paper book, "Running Snob" by Kevin Nelson).
Huh. Well, at 20.32 miles I was REALLY happy to stop running, but I certainly hadn't reached this physical/existential crisis. Actually, I think I felt more tired and sore yesterday after *only* 16.7 miles. I know I've felt as tired, or more, after some half marathon races (13.1 miles). But running depends on so many variables...weather, pace, sleep, hydration, hills, recent bourbon consumption, how pleased the running deities were with your most recent sacrifice, etc. etc.
On marathon day I may hit The Wall at 20.4 miles, or 24 miles, or 4 miles. It's pretty easy to psych myself out with all the things that could go wrong, which is why it's important for me to appreciate that no matter what else happens, it's pretty cool that I've come this far.
Luckily, there are a lot less variables to celebratory drinking. I'm pretty sure I can excel at that.
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