~ Training seriously but not too seriously ~
As I had mentioned in an earlier post, I am currently
training for my first 50k ultra marathon, the VT50, which will take place at
the end of September in Brownsville, Vermont. Even though I have had my fair
share of running injuries in the past, my love of long mountain runs inspired
me to give this challenge a shot—especially since I would have the Swiss Alps
as training ground.
My biggest concern for this summer of training, aside from
staying injury-free, was to continue to find the motivation for long solo
workouts (I am following a training plan so although running groups exist in
Bern, I am trying to keep to a specific workout routine—plus there is a yearly
fee to join these clubs). The project
I’m working on is quite similar to working on a thesis, and I am still feeling
a bit burned out from my senior thesis at Dartmouth, so working on two
“projects” (my climate change one + training) where I am the only one patting
myself on the back each day feels awesome on great days, but can also be quite
discouraging.
Even though a seemingly endless playground of mountains lay
just over an hour away by train, I knew it would be difficult to spend day
after day training alone. Plus, I soon realized that it was not realistic to
try to head to the mountains every day—too
long for a mid-week commute and way too expensive. So most workouts during the
week were to take place in Bern, namely along the Aare. Not a bad thing—the
Aare is stunning, the path that meanders along it couldn’t be more convenient,
and if you’re looking for hills you can always run from the city down to the
river and back up again—as many times as your heart desires. The only downside
to this route: it involves a lot of pavement and soon becomes repetitive.
But so far, so good. Running along the Aare does not yet
bore me beyond belief, besides a little blip a few weeks ago my legs are
feeling great (knock on wood), and I can still wake up each day feeling
motivated (and excited) to go out for a session of solo training.
My secret?
To take a training plan seriously, but not too seriously.
For instance, this past week was a “recovery” week (not sure
if I can really call it that because I still got 11.5hrs in, but I am feeling
rested) from the past two weeks of 17hrs and 14hrs, respectively. My training schedule looked like this:
Week of: 8/5/13
Type of week: recovery
M: 0 off/rest- needed it!
T: 1.25 2xcore routine + easy hour run
along the Aare
W: 2 6x600m uphill intervals in the
rain and thunder- felt great! So epic! Really proud of myself for finishing J
Th: 0.75 amazing first yoga class with
Sabe!! Tough at times, but such a perfect level J
F: 1 quick easy evening run- legs felt
great but stomach hated me
S: 3.25 lovely picnic MTB ride along the
Aare with Dondi
Su: 3.25 run/hike up to Fründenhütten
above Kandersteg- felt pretty good! Super tough climb, maybe the toughest yet
(4800ft of elevation gain!)
Total: 11.5
Yep, I still keep a training plan. I know my Ford Sayre
coaches are proud, since this can be difficult to hammer into their skiers,
resulting in the ends of practices where excuses for absent logs range from “My
mom forgot to fill it out for me” to “Oh I didn’t know that stuff we do after
school is worth writing down.” Even when I decided to no longer participate on
the Dartmouth ski team, I kept a training log. I think it can be a useful tool
even when you’re not in the midst of a competitive season—for keeping track of
your health, how much energy you have, whether intensity or volume tires you
more, as well as any seasonal patterns you notice or any big life adjustments
you must adapt to. For example, I perform terribly in heat and humidity, but
can also sleep less during summertime. I slept a TON when I lived on the Arctic
Circle of Finland during the winter. Spring term senior year, there were days
when I hadn’t slept and had forgotten to eat proper meals and it became REAL
difficult to get in long workouts because I was practically asleep during them.
And now, this summer, I am too burned out from college to get stressed about
work, so I go to sleep when I’m tired and have had the BEST and most consistent
training I’ve seen in a long while.
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| biking to yoga |
Thursday’s yoga and Saturday’s picnic ride were by two
biggies for keeping things fun an interesting this week. My newfound friend Sabe,
with whom I went running a couple weeks ago, is a yoga instructor and she is
GREAT. Unlike most yoga classes where you do a bunch of sun salutations for the
first half, and then spend the second half on the floor, she kept things
challenging throughout the entire hour and a half, but mixed in some resting
poses when we really needed it. The class was particularly interesting because
she conducted it in Swiss German—and her accent must have been really strong or
something because I could not understand a word for at least the first half
hour—I had to look around the room at others in order to follow along. At the
end, we all exchanged names as well as bises (the three kisses on the cheek) and
I became known as “the one with the nordie physique” aka the stiff muscly one.
I wouldn’t have been surprised if we had all gone out for dinner together
afterward—it was a super friendly group.
Saturday: Who knew that one could wind through all the
aspects of a New England mountain bike ride just outside of Bern? After waking
up to an amazingly strong and amazingly wonderful cappuccino, Dondi and I hit
the bike path in Bern and headed northwest along the Aare. It’s a joke now that
I always attack the hills too hard because I am used to charging Cat 3 and 4 climbs
in New England…and that a “hill” here is more likely to mean a “mountain.” But
this ride, Dondi informed me, was to be more my terrain. And indeed it was—I could
and did charge up each hill like I owned them as Upper Valley territory. And
unlike many of the sun-exposed mountain passes that have become familiar biking
routes, these roads were narrow, rolling, dirt, and shaded by deciduous
trees—how unusual for Switzerland and how like New England! We passed by farms,
a lake (actually just a dammed section of the Aare), a “trail” that was
essentially a logging expedition with enough logs out of the way to make room
for bikes, as well as a muddy section—to complete the classic New England
experience. About 2/3 of the way through, we stopped for a picnic lunch beside
the dammed section of the Aare, which for me included tomatoes, cheese,
prosciutto, and half an Ovomaltine bar that I treated quite territorially (Dondi
had his own dessert that I packed for
him—I wasn’t being that mean ;-) When we returned home, I felt a little tired
from the sun and a good workout (45km on a mix of roads and trails) but also
refreshed—I didn’t really think of the ride as a “workout” or “training”—it was
more like something fun to do with a Saturday, with lunch partway through. Plus
it was a great warm-up for Sunday’s mountain run J
Sunday: My goal for this day was to get in at least 3 hours
of solid mountain running (hiking when the terrain got steep) in order to bring
back some volume and transition out of the recovery week. After much map
consulting, I decided on Kandersteg, a small town outside Frutigen, another
small town about 45min south of Bern, as a starting point. You can take a train
directly, so I thought that would be the best way to hit some serious mountains
with minimal train time. As soon as I started moving, I noticed it was HOT.
That familiar exposed direct-sun feeling. I had only brought my little
Camelback with me and my initial thought when starting up the climb was, ‘shoot
I am going sweat this sunscreen off in two seconds and it was either an apple
or sunscreen going in the pack so here’s the beginning of a long day of
burning.’ Gosh was I dripping. It was embarrassing.
The evening before, when I consulted the map, I created an
ambitious plan to run to Oeschenen See, then up to Fründenhütte, then back down
to the lake, then repeat something of similar elevation on the other side of
the lake. The way up Oeschenen See was an incredibly steep, highly trafficked
paved road—enough to make me one irritable lady. Then once at the lake, the
crowds continued, thanks to nice sandy beaches and a hotel/restaurant. I just
wanted to get way the heck away from ALL these people. So up to Fründenhütte I
climbed. Things got nicer in terms of the surface (goodbye pavement hello
beautiful singletrack) but they also got tough. The switchbacks seemed
absolutely relentless, the lake gave me vertigo to look down at, and the
Fründenhütte seemed nowhere in sight. My running gate began to slow, and soon I
was stumbling over rocks, becoming a little worried about my safety—the stakes
were a wee high after all. After switchback after switchback of hot, fiery
legs, I began to accept that the running part of the day was pretty much kaput
(hah! This is a German word J it means “broken”) except for maybe on the way down
on the less steep parts. I also began to give up on my idea of repeating a
climb of similar difficulty on the other side of the lake once I had finished
this one.
Eventually, a Swiss flag came into view, which was a good
sign because they normally denote the presence of a hut. And that was indeed
the case. What an accomplishment I felt, standing on what seemed like the top
of the world, the Oeschenen See a small pond below, three large glaciers
surrounding me, as well as other hikers—all of whom hiked up on their own two
feet with no support from a gondola.
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| One of three glaciers above Fründenhütte |
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| Sharing the summit with other fit people |
So, my message from the week is this one: Know when to push
yours elf and stay focused, but also know when to stop. Don’t beat yourself up all the time. Recognize all the hard
work and discipline you’ve put in, and take a little break sometimes. Run and
bike and frolic like you’re a kid. Try a yoga class. Take a picnic with you.
And make sure to eat chocolate, at least some of the time J
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