Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff
I’m on week 3 of my training. Which means I’m more than ⅛ of the way through my plan. Which means roughly 13% — but who’s really counting?
Lately I’ve found myself a bit hyper fixated on the numbers and the details. I bought a watch to track my distance and a chest monitor to track my heart rate, I’ve watched a billion YouTube videos about training plans, and now know more about the anatomy of the human leg than I ever thought I would.
The experts say you have to run slow to run fast, and easy runs should make up 80% of mileage. So I monitor my heart rate to make sure I’m staying in my aerobic zone, checking two different sources multiple times every minute during my slower runs. The times I am running are slow — much slower than I ever ran during my training for my half marathon in March. I have been faster, I should be faster, I know I can run faster. But this is what the experts say to do in order to build up the aerobic base (which for the life of me I still don’t fully understand). I’ve been trying to wrap my head around how running 2 minutes slower than my ideal pace could get me to my goal time.
Today I was listening to a podcast about this 80/20 method and all the gadgets we use to try and measure our performance. The host said that physiologically, we are essentially identical to the first Olympians. Did they have Garmins on their wrist and heart rate monitors strapped to their chest, checking their apps every 30 seconds to make sure they were in “Zone 2”? Absolutely not. They were training using their mind/body connection as their primary instruments. Their feeling.
With all the new tools to track and monitor biometrics, it is easy to feel like fitness should work like Amazon Prime or TikTok, fulfilling the need for instant gratification, tricking us into thinking it comes as easy at it looks online. Most everything else in our world is instant: there are shortcuts.
But there is no easy way to train for a marathon. It comes down to mileage, strength training, fueling, mobility, sleep, all of which you can’t cheat. There’s no way to measure or monitor yourself out of the time and work.
Though I am absolutely gripped by the numbers, that idea really put this process into perspective for me. It takes years for endurance runners to build up the cardiovascular strength possible to run this distance quickly. Less than 1% of the population ever completes a marathon — at any speed. I’d like to get faster eventually, but that’s not really top priority for me now.
When I reflect on my reasons for running, falling close to last on the list is to beat any random goal time I’ve come up with in my head. Numbers are eclipsed by the feelings I’m chasing.
The feeling of knowing I am spreading awareness and raising funds for Sandy Hook Promise, which will save lives.
The sense of accomplishment of successfully adhering to a strenuous training plan that will take hours and hours every week for 16 weeks.
The excitement of doing my very first marathon through New York City, one of the 6 world major marathons, through (from what I can tell) the world’s #1 crowd of spectators.
The community as I connect with other runners from all walks of life, loved ones who are cheering me on along the way, and everyone who is joining me in supporting the exceptionally important cause to end gun violence.
There’s a time and a place for heart rate zones, fueling strategies, and negative splits, but what gets my shoes on and crosses another day of training off the calendar is returning to the feelings that drove me to sign up in the first place.
Thank you, as always, for being a part in this journey in any way shape or form. It means the world!