This May Be The Worst Year You’ve Ever Had
THE NEW YEAR Well, you’re a month into this new year. The cacophony of self-help goal-setters from just a few weeks ago has since settled into a faint whisper. No rah rahs, no sis boom bahs. The roaring crowd has left the stadium, and it’s just you on the field now, both the offense and the defense. The good news is that the shitty “2020 vision” puns are done bombarding your feeds; the bad news is that your 2020 vision (sorry) may already be trending towards farsighted, and we’re only one month into this thing. As runners, we all had grand plans for this year. Most of us still do, and that’s how it should be. We have a clean slate in front of us (maybe a little smudged after the first month), and if we’re running, we’re bettering ourselves in some small way on a continual basis. But for some of you out there, it turns out that running is a metaphor for life and your grand goals are not following the paint-by-numbers formula the way you’d like. Surprise–life doesn’t look as good as your Instagram feed. For some of you, this may be a mediocre year. A bad year. Even the worst year you’ve ever had. A YEAR FROM HELL Personally, my hopes for 2020 are even higher than they were at the beginning of 2019. This, despite the fact that last year was a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad year. Let me be clear: 2019 wasn’t the worst year I’ve ever had. Nobody close to me died, my children were healthy, and I made an awesome career change for the better. However, in running terms, the best way to sum up 2019 is that I took my Boston Marathon goal sheet off the fridge sometime in March. For the entirety of the year, I was hamstrung. Literally. I struggled with high hamstring tendinopathy, a curse of an injury if there ever was one. Think chronic tendonitis at the top of the hamstring, making it difficult to run properly and making sitting down a literal pain in the ass. Although the injury probably started sooner, the first time I realized it was a month out from my fall 2018 goal marathon. I’m in no way ashamed to admit that I went hard for a Strava segment during a long run based solely on the fact that it was Guy Fieri-themed. (Before you judge me, have you ever been to Flavortown? ‘Cause if you’ve never been elbow deep in a pile of Parmageddon Wings, then you have no business casting stones.) While I didn’t feel acute pain at the time, later that day on a 2-hour car ride I noticed that just sitting down was pretty uncomfortable. Almost a year and a half later, it still is. At that time, I thought I’d just take a few weeks off after my marathon and everything would go back to normal, like every other injury I’ve always had. However, when I resumed running, it was still there in full effect. “RUNNING THROUGH IT” Of course, like every runner you’ve ever met, I kept “running through it” because I stubbornly couldn’t let go of my 2019 goals. Even so, I managed to accomplish one of those by finishing my first 50-miler in June. But if I’m being honest with myself, it was a mediocre performance. My training was trash, I suffered through it, and I did nothing to take care of myself before or afterward. I kept telling myself that somehow I could get through this. But I couldn’t––at least not by my measures. Over time it got to me mentally, especially since my job revolves around running. The dull pain in my glutes became a constant stressor in my life, a low static hum in the background of everything that I did. I researched and read horror stories of this injury lasting for two, five, or even 10 years. Terms like “I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy” are testimony enough to its persistence. If I’m being honest, I wish I had broken my leg, because then I’d have a clear-cut plan on getting back. Because I couldn’t give up on my goals, I didn’t allow myself to focus on truly getting better, which would have saved me months of pain and turmoil. Instead, I gave up on myself and my running and let the specter of this injury overtake my long-term goals. I half-assed my physical therapy—if I wasn’t seeing progress in a month, I’d say, “Screw it, this isn’t working, I’m just going full-on running.” Which led directly to running jail, do not pass go, do not collect $200. All that to say, I thought 2019 was going to be a standout year on a personal level. I’ve only been running for 5 years, so my PR’s were still coming in. I wasn’t ready to give up my goals on account of an injury, but the truth is, I needed to let them go to take care of myself in the long-term. I think it’s often not said enough because we’re afraid to be perceived as weak or––even worse–– to lose our whole sense of identity, but here it is: It’s okay to let go.* Goals are great, but not when you’re wrecking everything in your life with your stubborn insistence on forcing them. I know it’s a cliché, but life happens– especially if you’re alive. The fact is, none of the gurus who were shouting at you a few weeks ago about “2020 Ways To Crush Your 2020 Goals” know your life. Maybe your training will be going perfectly, goal paces clicking off until you slip on a patch of ice and throw out your lower back. Your spring marathon will be scrapped, and maybe even your fall marathon as well. You will miss your friends, your community, even just the feeling of being outside. Maybe it’s as simple as the fact that you’re just a
Don’t Train For a Marathon Like Jeff Dengate
Don’t train like Jeff Dengate. For a marathon, for a 10K, hell—even for a mile. That is to say, don’t work out in the brick kiln of a New York City summer without drinking a drop of water. Don’t end a long run by going all-out in a little hometown race called the Fifth Avenue Mile. And for Chrissakes, on the night before your goal marathon, don’t put all your chips on black. As in, the black, smoked crust of a brisket sandwich, washed down with a couple IPAs at a country-western bar in Chicago. Or, do train like him. Like you are indeed the Runner-in-Chief at Runner’s World, with an infinite amount of training advice at your disposal. Do pencil in double workouts for almost every day that ends in ‘Y’. Do crank up the mileage into the nineties during the peak weeks of training. And lastly, during those painful miles of a marathon—make sure you smile like a circus clown because someone said ‘hey, you should do this thing’ the day before the race. Do all of this, and maybe you’ll end up with a career day at the Chicago Marathon, smash a 10-year-old PR by nearly five minutes, and think—‘wow, after 34 years of running, I just might have this figured out.’ THE PURSUIT Before Jeff Dengate trained like himself, he was just a karate kid growing up in Clarkston, Michigan in the thick of the ’80s. And while he never crane-kicked his way to a state championship, his karate class would run a local 5K race every year, eventually translating into a love for running. That passion became a dominant strand in the fabric of Dengate’s life, threading through high school and college (though he never ran competitively in college), and all through his 20s. Eventually, Dengate’s running career became exactly that— a career in running. In 2007, he joined Runner’s World as a digital producer and later became the shoes and gear editor, left the company, then returned to his old shoe reviewer post. After leaving again, Runner’s World was bought by Hearst in early 2018. Dengate came on in his current role as the head of the publication, in charge of maintaining the direction of the brand. Over the last year, Dengate, who is more inclined to “running up mountains, running in snowshoes, and doing crazy events,” found himself wondering if he could be fast. Not just in mile races and corporate 5K’s, but in an actual, straight-up marathon. Sure, fast is relative, but for him, that meant besting his PR of 2:54:33 set in 2010 at the Richmond Marathon. “I’m really more of a mile/5K runner; those short strength events are more in my wheelhouse,” says Dengate, now 41. “The repetitive nature, living like a monk, of marathon training is tough. So I never really did it or put in the training I needed to.” That’s not to say he’s never enjoyed them, to an extent. Along with his very-respectable time at Richmond, he’s also run the Boston Marathon every five years since 2010. Goal number one for this year was to qualify again—under 3:10 for his age bracket. He accomplished that goal with minimal training, ramping up to the Vermont City Marathon in May, where he comfortably qualified for Boston with a 3:05:58. After a short dip in mileage the week after, the “A” goal was in effect. For the next 18 weeks, Dengate would train like he never had before. THE ROUTE TO CHICAGO The schedule was daunting. With Runner’s World offices in both New York City and Pennsylvania (and a family home in New Jersey), Dengate’s schedule leaves little room for marathon training. For the head of the largest running publication on the planet, the irony is cruel. Blocking out runs into the daily Google calendar became a game of Tetris. Mornings began at 5 a.m. Midday runs doubled as both training and gear testing. Nevertheless, Dengate was able to develop something resembling a plan, and he stuck to it. Unconventional may be a good descriptor, personalized may be a better one. “I just ramped up the mileage, ate whatever I wanted, didn’t do speed work, didn’t do tempos. And then my fueling- we typically tell people to eat healthy, and like whatever, I don’t—I eat whatever I want,” says Dengate. “My wife and I do make healthy dinners, but I don’t ever limit myself, and I probably/definitely drink too much beer. A lot of nights I have potato chips for dinner. That’s just the reality of life.” Runners eating and drinking too much isn’t exactly the revelation of the century. Chip dinners enter into questionable territory. Not to mention, that for Dengate, most runs were done in a fasted state. He typically didn’t eat between dinner the night before and lunch after his second workout of the day. Yet the work of running was being done, and the foundation was being laid. His ramped-up mileage hovered in the 70-90 mile range, consisting of almost-daily doubles, and the standard long runs. At one point, Dengate was out in Seattle for a meeting with Brooks Running. While the company offered a complimentary shuttle from his hotel to a morning meeting, Dengate turned down the offer and ran instead. (Side note: that’s how you show up to a meeting with a run company). And yes, he ended a 19-mile long run at the starting line of the Fifth Avenue Mile. And yes, in true gear geek fashion, he changed into the ballerina racing slippers known as the New Balance 5280 before taking off. “It hurt bad. It was stupid. I don’t recommend anyone do that,” says Dengate. (For what it’s worth, he ran a 5:11). While Dengate tests nearly a hundred pairs of shoes a year, he laid the most miles down on pairs of the HOKA ONE ONE Rincon and the Reebok Floatride RunFast. Of course, like almost every damn runner with any aspirations these days, he also ran in the Nike Vaporfly NEXT% on race
You Ran a Marathon, Now Chill The F*** Out
First off, I’d like to congratulate all of you who ran the TCS New York City Marathon, or any fall goal race. The path through the Five Boroughs presents a unique challenge in marathoning; there’s a reason it’s one of the most challenging races in the World Marathon Majors. Likewise, there are plenty of other courses that are just as challenging, and without the endless energy of NYC spectators. If you’ve ever run 26.2, you know full well that the event is not just physically, but mentally demanding. It takes guts to get out of your comfort zone for an extended period of time. Not just physical, but mental guts (yes, that’s a thing). Because of that, I’m often approached about “mental recovery” after taking on a big-ass race such as a marathon or ultra. During grueling distances, we may not realize that our minds are constantly wandering, making adjustments, judging, trying to entertain ourselves, and later coping with the last stretch. These issues aren’t just relegated to us mortals, but are challenges that even the Mary Keitany’s of the world must take on. When we race a marathon properly, at some point our legs become depleted of glycogen. Around the same time, our minds are pretty tapped out too. I don’t know about y’all, but I’ve been known to lose and forget things during and after long races. Anyone who’s tried to mentally calculate splits in the later miles of a race knows what I’m talking about. Or who’s tried to remember where they parked the car. These are all signs of mental fatigue from a hard race, or even a hard season. Like you, I’ve also been an emotional mess at the finish line. Of course, a lot of this comes from the sense of accomplishment, but it’s also that I’m just too tired to regulate my emotions. Because the mental and physical parts of racing are equally important, I work hard with my athletes during their training to make sure they’re focused, composed, and ready when things cease to be fun. This demands a lot of energy, both cognitive and emotional. Hopefully racing doesn’t make you feel as if your IQ has dropped a few points along with an acute fear of stairs. But if this is the case, or even if you just capped an awesome, long season and race, here are some key tips on how to recover mentally and come back even stronger. » Take Time to Reflect Take a good 24-48 hours to really decide what you loved or didn’t love about the event. What went right? Take notes on the strengths you displayed because this is good info for later. What is one area where you feel you need the most improvement? For example, did you nail your nutrition and negative split, but found yourself stressing about the clock? Did you push too hard in the first half? I’ve said this before, but racing is like an ongoing science initiative: we’re extracting data to get better all the time. » Take Time Off For all the love, take some time off! I know, I know, you already want more. You crushed your race and want to roll that high into the next training cycle. We all do, but more is not always more. This can look different depending on the athlete, coach, and situation. It can range from going Kenyan-style (taking 14-30 or more days off at a time with no exercise), or it may mean ditching the GPS and taking it easy, learning how to reconnect and read your body while it recovers. Personally, I like a good 5-7 day total layoff, and then run whenever I want, with no set time, and usually something very different, like trails. Obviously, low effort. While this is a physical break, it also allows you to mentally relax—no need to worry about paces, heart rates, or weekly mileage goals. » Take Time for Other Things in Life “I’m sorry, I have a long run in the morning”— this is not a thing that should be said after a marathon. Replace this with something or someone you feel have put on the back burner. Go out, sleep in, or read a book. Catch up on a work project or try woodworking (not sure about that one, but whatever). For a lot of us, our stress relief that is running can sneakily become our stressor. Allow yourself to create some more space by mentally focusing on things other than running. »Take Time to Chill the F*** Out Non-Type A runners may skip this one: give yourself permission to chill, with or without Netflix. You worked hard. You earned it. We don’t have to be in training mode all the time, regardless of what Instagram says. Just relax. MIND OVER MATTER, Y’ALL When the time comes to plan your next race or adventure, the idea is to not just come back physically rejuvenated, but more hungry and motivated mentally than before. Enjoy your success, enjoy the process of getting better, and set some big goals. Rest and repeat. Until next time, believe in your run.