Running Sucks, but Half-Marathon Training Is Making Me Sane
It’s week 4 of my 12 week training program to run my first ever half marathon — at Angkor Wat in Cambodia in December.
As is to be expected, it’s been somewhat challenging to consistently train while traveling — but I think I’m making decent progress given the myriad conditions + locations I’ve been in, plus being sick for most of the last 6 weeks.
To keep myself accountable, I’m sharing my training thus far:
My dream goal would be to race it and break 10 min / mile pace. But that would be a huge accomplishment given my running level and general fitness. Realistically, I’m hoping to break 11 min / mile. But truly, finishing is the primary goal.
I will be proud of myself to just move my body 13.1 miles in one go.
The hardest thing about running is that, unlike rowing, I don’t get to be sitting. If I take a break or slow down for a few beats, there’s no momentum, there’s no way to really rest while running.
One reason I was able to keep up at all as a rower was because I was very good at the technical side and regulating my effort on strokes and using the slide/recovery (literally what it’s called at the end of the stroke and taking the oar out of the water as you move up to take the next stroke) to breathe and relax.
Even at the fastest sprinting pace we’d row at — roughly 45 strokes / min, which is a stroke every 1.33 seconds, I was able to make the ratio give me a brief moment to breathe.
For a long training workout in crew — say a 40 minute test or an “hour of power”, which, surprisingly, is 60 minutes rowing on the erg (machine) — I would typically row at 28 strokes / min, which gave me an abundant 2.15 seconds per stroke.
Each stroke should be about a 1:4 or 1:3 ratio of drive to recovery, which means you’re applying pressure for half a second and then you get ~1.5 seconds to breathe while you move back for the next stroke. In a boat, the physics of the boat’s movement actually help push you back into position.
With running, there are no seconds or split seconds for relaxing. There is no moment of letting the boat glide underneath you as you prepare for the next expulsion of effort and energy (and welcome in another wave of pain).
Every moment requires effort.
Every breath of calm must be found and created within the pain.
My former roommate (in Morocco) was a college cross-country runner. She told me back when we used to do yoga together in our apartment living room that it helped her a lot with her running. I’ve been doing yoga consistently for 7 years, largely thanks to practicing together and really loving the classes she subscribed to.
I tried to run track and cross-country in high school, and it was my first experience being an athlete, not just a dancer. I got shin splits (later realized it was my compartment syndrome). I did not enjoy running.
Running is slightly more enjoyable for me now, which I attribute to having been through college athletics training plus doing yoga. Thanks to both experiences, I have much better mental control and motivation, and I can practice deeper breathing more easily.
We’re in month 9 of Remote Year.
I have 8 weeks until my half marathon in Angkor Wat.
I recently went through a breakup.
I’m not sure how I’ll make enough money for the next 3–6 months.
I don’t know what I’m going to do or where I will go after Remote Year ends.
But it turns out that this training program is maybe the best thing I could have done for myself to help me through all that.
It’s hard and painful, but it’s rewarding. My mental game has gotten rusty, and my motivation needed a refresher.
Training reminds me that I can do things, that I can survive hard moments. That I am capable of more than I realize.
I see how crew regulated my college experience. Each semester I faced illness and injury in some form. I went through the highs of love and heartbreaking lows. I often felt incredibly at home but sometimes homesick. I struggled through finals and internships and job applications.
But six days a week, I had practice. I showed up to the gym or the boathouse with my team and got to work. I overcame seconds and minutes and hours of physical challenges.
I went from a chubby freshman to a strong and lean senior, and I became confident and courageous even though my insecurities and doubt never left.
And then I graduated.
Seven years went by without me putting anything on the line, without physically competing for something, without pushing my body through pain to teach my brain to believe it was possible.
Sure, I’ve learned a lot from life experience and travel and work and relationships. My yoga teacher training was an incredible month of my life that gave me new insights into my mind and body.
But there’s something unique about training through pain that focuses me and fixes me.
I still mostly hate running. But I love training.
Thank you, 30th birthday self, for signing us up for this. For making it so that me every day for 12 weeks had to think about this half-marathon. That I would have to consciously think about every decision again to maximize my ability to reach my goal.
Thank you for giving me this challenge to help remind myself that I can be confident and courageous alongside my insecurities and anxieties.
Katherine is a digital nomad, working remotely while she travels the world — on the road since June 2014. She’s a member of Remote Year 2 Battuta, living around the world with 75 other digital nomads from February 2016 to January 2017.
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