Running 20 Miles

Today I hit what was probably my best run yet. My coach assigned me a two hour and thirty minute run, with about 45 minutes of it at marathon goal pace. I’m late in my training cycle, which means I’m doing a higher percentage of event-specific work. This equates to a lot more “goal marathon pace” runs.

The run ended up being just over 20 miles (32 km), the longest run of my life. Better yet, it felt pretty good. By pretty good I mean, body parts weren’t straining, tearing, cracking, wobbling, or shutting down, and I also didn’t lose consciousness. I’d be lying if I said I hit mile 20 and said out loud, “damn do I feel great!” So good is a relative description of feeling as far as 20 mile runs go.

Adaptation to long runs is a slow process. I didn’t get to this marker overnight, though it may seem that way since I just started blogging about my running journey. I’ve jogged routine 5ks for years upon years. Last year I finally built up to a half marathon; a marathon is simply the next logical step.

My marathon preparation, like many things, is partly a result of COVID. With everything shut down, I was fortunate to realize the value of being outside. I needed the outdoors because the claustrophobia of being inside with little interaction was suffocating. And what better way to explore the outdoors than to learn how to run and ride a bike?

I felt light on my feet the first two miles and knew pretty early that this would be a good session. By “light on me feet” I mean that a brisk pace (for me) felt effortless. Some days you feel like you’re floating. Others, like you’re Atreyu’s horse from Neverending Story, Artax, drowning in quicksand.

I crossed the Saint Louis Arch around mile 1, descended via an inclined walkway down to the Riverfront Trail below it, and then embarked on what is essentially a long 9 mile stretch north alongside the Mississippi River (and back). There are some brief-yet-steep hills during the first few miles, but the rest of the path is mostly flat.

I remembered to wear sunscreen this time after the pale winter sunlight managed to burn me the week before (courtesy of Nordic ancestors). Three hours later and I see no signs of sunburn, so that’s good. Nothing like telling people you got burned by running on a Saturday morning during winter.

I practiced fueling again; I took one gel before starting the run and an additional four gels during the run, each separated by about three miles. This time I wasn’t hacking my lungs out due to the gels’ gooey substance, so that’s also good.

I averaged sub-7 minute miles on my marathon goal pace, and that’s great for me. Granted, I overdid the effort a little. My ideal pace for a marathon should be about ten seconds per mile slower than what I hit today. I was a little overzealous. Sometimes though, you just need to know your limit and take a risk. I learned that as an elite swimmer. I was glad that I held a steady pace and finished strong.

The final two miles were odd because by the time I returned to the Arch, it was flooded with tourists. Some of them were more than happy to take up the entire walkway while strutting by in large groups without giving so much as an inch of space for a lone runner. They typically do this because they’re staring at their phones while walking. Other tourists would stop and take photos on the “far side” of the walkway so that you inevitably run through their shot.

One angry Karen-like woman who was in the process of taking a photo of the Arch even managed to bark at me while I ran, “Stay out of my shot!” I kept running and smiled. Note that I was on a walkway with nowhere else to go, unless I turned around, which I was definitely not going to do. Also note that the Arch is an inanimate object that will not move an inch within the next century. The “shot” wasn’t exactly going anywhere.

On a side note, if you aren’t sure what a “Karen” is… Wikipedia defines it as “a slang term for a white woman perceived as entitled or demanding beyond the scope of what is normal.”

I believe it’s important to ignore miserable people rather than let them suck you into their abyss of gloom. Emotions are contagious. If you’re happy and have a strong enough reality in which your happiness resides, you’re likely to make a lot of people around you happy. If you engage with anger, you’ll create more anger. That’s just how the universe works, or at least from what I’ve seen. So I deflected the comment and kept running. It was too nice outside to deprive myself of joy. And hey, if you can’t wait two seconds for a runner before taking your precious little photo of an inanimate object made of steel, learning some patience might be of benefit. Just saying.

So I finished my 20 miles and my legs felt thankfully healthy. I’m four weeks away from my first marathon and I can feel the excitement building. I have a goal time, but to be honest, I’ll just be happy to cross the finish. I think that alone will be a remarkable experience.