For the first time since I began running over 20 years ago, I had to finish a run by walking. This experience has humbled me, not-so-gently reminding me that I am not a perpetual motion machine. Parts do break and requiring fixing – or at least some rest. Until this run in question, I would type my workout in my training plan and when the prescribed day came, I would head out the door and do the workout. Now, I’ve been reminded that while I may finish, there are times that we have to adjust to what our body can do at a particular point in time.
The day started out well enough on Saturday morning (August 29). My husband and I had planned to do our long run together, something we haven’t done in a few months. We were going to do a 3-4 hour run on the Batona Trail, in southern New Jersey. We’ve recently gotten interested in trail running, and I was looking forward to the run. I woke up at 6 a.m., and the rain was falling. I wasn’t concerned about the rain, because it had been so hot, I figured the rain and the cloud cover would keep us from getting too hot. My feet might blister, but at least I wouldn’t overheat.
I had some coffee, got dressed, got my drinks together. I was a little hungry, but John’s coach as well as a few articles I had read recently urged athletes not to eat before long workouts to teach the body to burn fat energy more efficiently during endurance events. The arguments seemed well-reasoned enough. I had been experimenting with this approach during shorter workouts, as well as a longer bike workout. The longer bike workout didn’t turn out so well and my pacing on tempo runs was off, but at that time, I did not associate the issues with not eating before hand. I chalked it up to the 10-12 hours or so of training a week. (*SPOILER ALERT* Now I think it has more to do with not eating just a little something before the workout. More on that in a second.)
So, my stomach grumbled. I had a few sips of sports drink while I waited for John to wake up. A few more sips. Rumble grumble. A few more sips. John finally woke up around 7:15 a.m. We were suited up and out the door by 8:00 a.m., and got to the trail head by about 8:30 or so. As we started running, I could feel the lead in my legs. It’s nothing, I thought, they’ll loosen up after the first few miles. And, the trail bed was a soft, sandy surface with lots of woop-de-woops, so I figured that also contributed to the heavy feeling in my legs.
By mile 5, my legs were still not working. And, my stomach was no longer grumbling – it was growling. Woo-wee, was it angry! So, I figured I better hit it with some gel. I like to use Hammer gels because they are low in sugar, not too sweet tasting, and they don’t use preservatives. I took a shot, and followed it with a swig of water. My stomach quieted down. But, I still couldn’t get my legs to move very fast. I started to realize I was holding John back. We were running about an 9:30 min/mile pace – which is very slow for both of us – but I didn’t feel like I could get my legs to move any faster. My heart rate was low – so I wasn’t having cardio issues. I.just.could.not.move.my.legs.any.faster.
Somewhere around mile 11, I had to stop and walk for a bit. John was very nice about it. He said, “We’ll just walk it out a bit. No big deal.” Yes, I thought, I’ll just walk it out and I’ll feel better. When we started running again, I did feel a little bit better. But, it wasn’t too long before every step became a struggle. I started to feel sick to my stomach. Then, I got a little bit dizzy and my vision started blurring in and out. I tried concentrating on my breathing: 1-2-3 in, 1-2-3 out. Nice, deep diaphragmatic breathing. Even the breathing offered only temporary relief. I started to get a side stitch. Somewhere around mile 15, just 2.5 miles from where we had started our run, I called out to John who was a few feet in front of me on the shoulder.
“I have to walk.”
As soon as I stopped, I was hit by a wave of nausea that I was certain would end with a puddle of gel and sport drink on the side of the road. I breathed deeply. No vomit. I felt so terrible, I contemplated making myself throw up. Finally, the wave passed. But, I was still a little bit dizzy and I just knew I wouldn’t be able to start running again.
“You go ahead and finish the run out. I’ll meet you at the car,” I said to John.
John walked with me for another minute or so–I think to make sure I wasn’t going to pass out–and then he took off. He is training for the Vermont 50 mile ultramarathon. And, his workout for the day was a 2 hour and 45 minute run followed by an hour jog/walk pattern. I had planned to do the entire thing with him, but it would take all the energy I had left to walk the final 2.5 miles back to the car. I tried to start running again after I had walked for about 10 minutes, but the side stitch returned immediately and my legs JUST WOULD NOT WORK–they were burning. So, I continued to walk.
I made it back to the car three hours and 15 minutes after we had left that morning. John would still be doing his jog/walk pattern for another half hour or so. I had some more water, stretched (which felt beautiful), changed my soaking wet clothes and shoes, and drank some recoverite. By now, it occurred to me that I was woefully low on glycogen. I had BONKED, and it felt absolutely terrible. There were times in other workouts where I thought maybe I had bonked. Nah – I was just tired. Bonking is a completely different feeling. Your body is in total revolt.
As I sat in the car waiting for John to return, I reflected on the run and what went wrong. I was disappointed and starting to feel insecure about my fitness. I’m only 5 weeks out from my priority race of the season–and I feel like sh!$. Then, I started to consider my eating and hydration for past few days. Neither had been stellar. In fact, on a few days, both elements had been abysmal. It had been a busy week socially and professionally, so I had not eaten as well as I would have liked, and I definitely don’t think I had been drinking enough water. So, I had one strike against me. The second strike: not eating something an hour or two before the workout. I have also come to the conclusion that, despite prevailing wisdom, I have to eat something before my long workouts. I’m not talking about a full breakfast, but I think 200-300 calories of some easy-to-digest food will do the trick. In fact, I’ve always done so. I only stopped because of the articles I had read.
I don’t regret trying this approach–I think it is very important to try different plans while training. The experience highlights an important lesson about endurance training: nutrition is personal. It’s important to read and listen to others–I’ve gotten plenty of advice that has worked out perfectly. Athletes who have “been there” have a wealth of wisdom. Just as important as accepting advice that works is ignoring advice that doesn’t fit individual needs. For whatever reason, I have to eat something before workouts–especially long ones. If I don’t, I don’t perform as well, and the worst case scenario is that I will get sick. Maybe my body won’t be as efficient as someone else’s in using fat energy. But, that’s a trade-off I’m willing to make.
