November 14, 2021
This past July, I ran my first ever marathon, managing to get myself over the finish line 1 minute and 56 seconds under the Boston Marathon qualifying standard for my age group. I was ecstatic– after four months of rigorous training, nearly a year of preparation (i.e. making plenty of mistakes and learning lessons along the way), and over a decade of having "run a marathon" on my bucket list, I'd finally run it.
I learned so much throughout the process of training for a marathon that I wanted share my journey in hopes of helping others who are looking to train for a marathon. Nobody wakes up one day and is able to easily run a marathon– the fact that the first person to ever do so (Pheidippides in ancient Greece) collapsed and died right after tells you that running 26.2 miles is not something that humans spring from the womb able to do. But to me, there's something comforting in the knowledge that every single person who finishes a marathon had to train to get there. It's not easy, but if you're willing to put in the time and effort, it's absolutely possible.
In May 2019, my partner had signed up for his first marathon and I decided to help him train by running a 10k with him around Lake Union. By the end of the run, I was ready to pass out. "Can we take a bus to get ice cream?" I asked. "It might be faster if we walk– it's only 15 minutes away", he said. "You don't understand, I'm not physically capable of a 15 minute walk right now" I said. It was shameful. Here he was about to run a marathon, and I couldn't even handle 6 miles. That weekend, I decided to sign up for my first half marathon.
Training for the half marathon went smoothly enough– I found a three month training plan on the Internet and did my best to follow it, running 3-4 times a week, building my long runs from 6 up to 13 miles, and increasing my weekly mileage to ~25 miles/week. On race day, I hit my target time, running 13.1 miles in 1:42:08. "Sweet!" I thought, "if I just train twice as hard, I should be able to run a sub-3:30:00 marathon!" Little did I know just how much more difficult running a full marathon would be.
My new year's resolution for 2020 was to run a marathon. I set my sights on running the Jack & Jill Marathon (it overlapped with the half marathon course I'd run) in July, and figured I should give myself five months starting from March to train. I found a marathon training plan online, adjusted it to fit my schedule, and began using it as a guide. Three weeks in, my knees started hurting after long runs, and by mid-April, my knees were in constant pain. Knowing I was on a schedule, I tried to grit my teeth and run through the pain, hoping that the pain would magically disappear; it only got worse. I took a few days off running to recover, but the next time I ran, the stabs of pain returned. I realized that even if I could force myself make it through the next run, at the rate my knees were deteriorating, I'd never make it to July. I had no choice but to let my knees fully recover before trying again, even if it meant deferring my marathon goal. It ended up taking two months for me to be able to run without pain in my knees; as luck would have it, the marathon also ended up being cancelled due to the COVID-19 pandemic.
I'd made several key mistakes: 1) I attempted to increase my mileage too quickly, 2) I hadn't invested in proper running gear, and 3) all I did was run– I didn't do any cross training, strength training, or core exercises.
Once my knees were functional again, I reset my sights on the 2021 Jack & Jill Marathon, and resolved, this time, to do everything I could to set myself up for success. I invested in a quality pair of running shoes (Brooks Ghost 12s) for training, and another pair of Nikes for race day, and started tracking my mileage on the Nike Run Club app so that I could swap out my shoes once I hit 500 miles. I ordered several pairs of running socks (really all you need are socks that stay snug on your feet and don't slip off while you're running), a running belt with a water bottle pouch, and energy chews. My partner gifted me a running watch (Garmin Venu), onto which I downloaded a marathon training plan. This time, I stuck to the training plan religiously, resisting the temptation to increase my mileage too quickly before my body could handle it. With the addition of weekly strength training, I was able to make it through four grueling months of training to race day, injury-free.
The second go-around of my weekly training regimen consisted of five days of running, one day of core exercises, and one day of strength training (alternating legs and full body). After succumbing to knee injury the previous year, I scoured the Internet to understand why, and learned that the muscles around the knee help absorb the force from each step– approximately 3x a person's body weight when running. If those surrounding muscles are weak, the knee ends up bearing the brunt of that force.
Once my long runs started approaching 13, 15, 22 miles long and I started burning thousands of calories per run, I realized I had to start paying closer attention to what I ate and drank before, during, and after each run. Otherwise, pangs of hunger would start gnawing at me mid-run, which would soon turn into painful cramps that'd force me to stop my run early. Or I'd hit an early wall and suddenly feel drained of energy. I developed the following fueling strategy for long runs: 1) Eat a ~500 calorie breakfast consisting of carbs and protein, 2) Carry energy chews + water on my run, ingesting a chew + taking a sip every 15 min, starting at the 30 min mark, and 3) Eat a protein bar or drink a Greek yogurt smoothie post-run.
You may have heard the saying that runners should "carb load" before a marathon. While it's true that you should be ingesting more carbs in the week leading up to the race, you shouldn't stuff yourself (imagine trying to run a marathon the morning after Thanksgiving dinner). Instead, eat the same amount as before, but start replacing portions of protein with portions of carbs. With two days to go, choose relatively bland meals to minimize the chance of an upset stomach on race day.
The marathon training plan I followed started off with a weekly mileage of 25 miles and eventually worked its way up to 40 miles a week. That equates to several hours of running each week, five days a week. I found myself scheduling my workouts weeks in advance, then looking at the weather and my transportation options the night before in case I needed to make any last minute adjustments.
Initially, I'd sigh every time my calendar notified me that I had a run in 30 minutes. But after a few weeks, working out daily had become a habit that I started looking forward to. In fact, if I missed a workout, I'd feel lethargic (that said, it's important to rest on your rest days!).
My goal was to run the marathon in 3 hours and 30 minutes, which equates to averaging just under 8 minutes per mile. Research shows that the most efficient pacing strategy is to maintain a consistent pace the entire race. Of course, that's easier said than done– up to this point I'd only ever run positive splits (getting progressively slower as I got more tired), and many people also advocate running negative splits (getting faster as the race goes on). Since to me, the idea of running faster as the race went on seemed completely unrealistic, I decided to try to stick as close to an 8 minute mile pace as possible. To help me stay on pace, I curated a 3 hour 36 minute playlist consisting entirely of music between 170-180 beats per minute (research indicates that 180 steps per minute is the optimal race pace), looked at my GPS watch to estimate my pace, and used good old-fashioned math to calibrate (every time I passed a mile marker, I'd multiply by 8 and compare with the time on my watch).
21 miles in, I was completely out of gas. Body spent, mind exhausted, I looked at my watch and saw that I was actually within range of my 3:30 target. I'd just need to run a sub-8 minute mile for the next 5 miles, which meant 40 more minutes of pure physical and mental torture. I grit my teeth and willed my legs to push harder– to my surprise, my legs listened, even as my mind cursed. I kept repeating to myself, "this is where races are won or lost." I was running on fumes at that point, feeling like I might hit a wall at any moment, but deciding that I'd rather hit the wall having given my all than finish the race knowing I could've given more.
Pushing my body to its limit had its consequences. For two days after the race, I was unable to stand up without using my arms– my legs were incapable of bearing weight. I hobbled around, wincing with each step. Two of my toenails turned black and later fell off. I tried going for my first post-race jog a week later, and turned around after half a block. It wasn't until midway through my third week post-race that I was able to go on my first jog, albeit a slow and sluggish one at that. To me, though, the soreness was a wonderful reminder that I'd done it– I'd finished my first marathon and hit my goal. Plus, my metabolism stayed active; even though I wasn't (capable of) moving in the first 2.5 weeks after the marathon, yet I was still eating like a marathoner, my weight didn't budge.
Best of luck to anyone out there training for their first (or next) marathon– I hope this blog post could provide a glimpse into my journey and be helpful to yours!
Now to start training for the Boston Marathon next April...
All smiles post-race