The long and winding road

Long runs are a vital part of any triathlon training program. Of course, it depends on your race goal as to what you mean by how "long" long is, as a former Prez would say. A sprint distance training plan probably will have you at 3-5 miles for your longest run. An Olympic distance, which requires 6.2 miles of hoofing it, between 5-7 miles. A 70.3 calculates 13.2 of those 70.3 miles in shoe leather. So your longest run is going to be bewteen 12-15 miles in training.

Of course, you don't just out and run 15 miles one day just because it seems like a good plan. You gotta build up to that distance slowly and easily. Long runs are like novels, intervals and tempo runs are your short stories (I want to say SOMETHING is like a tweet, but the only thing I can think of is a sprint to the refrigerator during a TV commercial).

Long runs are meant to be run slowly, and within your aerobic heart rate range. This may end up giving you a shockingly slow pace time, but speed is not the point here. Distance and building up endurance is the point. The hardest lesson I ever had to learn was to pace myself on a long run to trot around a 12 min or easier mile pace--until I got my heart monitor, which lectures me willingly about not going out fast.

On Saturday morning, I did a 5.4 mile long run--my longest run since the May 12 triathlon. It's time to start building the miles and minutes back up, as I want to run another half marathon in December this year. I've been bumming around the last six weeks not running any longer than 45 minutes or about 4 miles, so it was time to get the feet on a longer path.

It was miserably hot even at 7:45 a.m., with little breeze and the sun beating down like a hammer on your neck. Not my favorite weather to run (my favorite weather to run in happens about 4 days a year, but then again, I'm very particular). I have a small fabric mesh waist belt that can hold my car key, my phone and a squished small bottle of water, so I strapped that on, put "Classical Gas" on my iPod to start, and off I went on a fairly flat run (still remembering that I am recovering from a hamstring injury and saving hills for when I know it's totally healed).

The first 15 minutes weren't so bad; I paced myself easy and ran into the wind (so I'd have it at my back on the second half; a good plan that I often forget to implement), smiling at people and trying to ignore that Big Hot Ball In The Sky. Ag the 15 minute mark I stopped for a 3 minute break and slugged some warm water (gotta love it). Then back running again, this time managing to run smack into a 5K race at the local park which caused me to have to jump off and run on the grass a little bit (hello, racers? Your head should be looking forward and not down, capize?). Anyway, the wind was picking up so this leg was a little harder and it was also a little hotter, and I was glad to take another 3 minute break at the 31 minute mark and have another drink. Back to running again, this time the sweat is pouring down into my eyes (dadgummit, I forgot my headband again) and the little inclines are seeming like big hills. I am getting buzzed multiple times by a guy on a recumbent bike. Is he trying to flirt with me? Nah, it's just a small park. Plus I am wearing my sweaty wedding ring which I never take off, and which consequently has to go get repaired every so often (I'm sorry, but it's my good luck charm).

At 47 minutes very glad to take another break for more water. It's really hot now; I have made the turn downwind, which makes running easier, but hotter, since the wind is no longer in my face. Back to running I go, and I come back upon the 5K racers again, this time on the back stretch, and high five the guy who is in third to last place but is trying very hard which is what counts here. (I also noticed the young cocky dude who was in second place on the first mile--is now at the back of the pack and walking. Hey, I've gone further than him and I am still running. Ego bomb!).

Around 60 minutes my hamstring starts to wake up and say, "oh, we are running here?" This is actually good news since the last time it talked to me it did it at 45 minutes, so I know it's getting better. I keep running for another 7 minutes to see if it will shut up, but no dice. So I know my run is over for the day and I stop. There is no need to ask for trouble here and push that hamstring recovery. I have gone further than I have in six weeks, and there are more long runs to come.

My only problem is that I stopped earlier than I had planned, and therefore had a long hot walk back to the car. It was really terribly miserable out there and I once again thanked the technology gods for letting me live in an era with air conditioning and running water.

Sunday and Monday are off days full of preparation and attending a minor medical procedure that everyone over 50 needs (and I mean it). I will definitely lose weight those two days, but not the way anyone likes! Back to training on Tuesday.