After I ran my first half marathon a few years ago, my next goal was to run just one more half--to see if I could have a better time doing it. I don't really run for time and definitely not for prizes but the sense of accomplishment (and the breakfast that follows) is my reward. However, I felt no joy running that race--as early as two miles in I was thinking "I can't believe I have so far to go." Which sucked.
What am I going to do differently for this upcoming half? Two things: this will be my first race that takes place outside of Chicago (it's in New Orleans, and I am ignorantly hoping that the heat and humidity won't bring me down), so a change of scenery will be nice. Secondly, I plan to walk parts of it.
Prior to when I got pregnant, I had this secret point of view that if I walked any part of a race, I might as well just have stayed home. IÂ held this uber-competitive and perfectionist position up until the last race I ran before having the baby, when I was about six months pregnant and just physically couldn't keep my legs moving in that manner for over three consecutive miles.
My first big race after the baby was the Soldier Field 10-Mile. I did my long runs for this with my friend Erica, who has no problem with walk breaks. Between the pleasure I got from doing the five, six, seven and eight-mile runs with a friend and my reluctance to put my own crazy point of views on someone else, I was more than happy to walk with Erica when necessary (which, for the record wasn't that frequently or that long; maybe three to five breaks per long run, and never for more than a few minutes.) More importantly, I realized that physically, I felt so much better--less sore, with more energy--after the long runs where I took walk breaks. The first time around, I felt like one of those dried up shrimps they sell in the Hispanic section of the grocery store after the long runs. But now I could just go about my day and even do other stuff without feeling too creaky and sore.
Come the 10-Mile, Erica and I ran the first six miles together, taking breaks per usual. At the six mile mark, I even stopped to take a bathroom break, something I would have never contemplated at all in my earlier, crazy-competitive state (the prospect of crossing the finish line in bladder hell and having to look for a bathroom in a panic seemed less attractive to me than losing a few minutes off my time.) Once we were done, I asked Erica if she minded that I do my own thing, and I headed off. Unlike the first half-marathon, where the race dragged on and on, this time it felt like I was starting fresh with a mere four-mile run. I felt great, I felt fresh, I felt proud--I was even passing people. And after the race I had enough energy to stay on my feet and move around for the rest of the day.
So I plan on taking the walk breaks too for the half marathon. I'm going to be in New Orleans for god's sake: I want to be able to enjoy myself afterwards and not have to crash in a chafed and sore pile. But I was thinking that there is more than just the physical benefit of taking the walk breaks. I think when I do this, I work to shut down the competitive and perfectionist of me that thinks of things in such an all-or-nothing way: that if I weigh 145 pounds I'm okay but if I'm 155 I'm in dire need of improvement, that if I vary from my diet and eat spontaneously I'm living in a world of chaos, that if I take time off my running schedule in order to dance or rest an injury that it's all gone to shit, that if I walk or sit or take a day off without having kicked my ass thoroughly ahead of time so as to deserve it, I'm a loser.
I'm not running to impress other people--okay, maybe I am a tiny bit. But the people who would not be impressed by me running with walking breaks probably wouldn't be impressed by me anyway. I learned something the first time around, tackling a major task like running a half marathon--or anything really I guess--isn't worth it if it's not at least slightly enjoyable. So if enjoyable means easier and easier means weak does it mean I'm weak if I try to unclench just a tiny bit? I think there only one person would really care about all that--fortunately she's working on her relaxation techniques.