The Long Run

As a runner, one of my biggest weaknesses has been handling the long run well. In high school I ran very little mileage and very high intensity, so naturally a long run at a moderate/easy pace would be my problem.

Over summer I dreaded the long sundays, the 12-15miles whose only purpose is to run 7-8 miles after the first 5-6 drain your initial 2 energy systems. The long miles always destroyed me for the rest of the day, with the long run often immediately followed by a feeling-sorry-for-myself type nap.

But, that was 6 months ago. Over time, and the miles added up one by one, ten by ten, seventy-five by seventy-five. Over and over my legs pounded the unforgiving pavement, and eventually the long run pain started to fade.

Fast forward to January 1st, the first run and coincidentally first long run of the new year. An equally talented friend comes over to my house to do the long run together, because the half-marathon (& change) route which we are to take is mindnumbing alone and we slog mile after mile across the northwest hills.

Barely a word is shared as we begin. We've ran together so long, everything that has needed to be said has been said. Every philosophy I have he knows, every training principle he has I know.

The symphony of footsteps is simply soothing, as a voice in the back of my head says without words you are not alone

I intentionally leave my Garmin watch behind. The high-tech supercomputer, connected to 3 satellites that constantly triangulates my position within 5 meters tells me my pace too much, and I will be too tempted. I know exactly how long this run is, I've done it an innumerable amount of times.

So, all I have is a watch that can only tell time and run a stopwatch, which is all I need. The clock will run as we tread lightly. The long run is about heart rate, which means that the clock doesn't matter, as long as it runs for a long. time.

We pass familiar streets, focusing on staying loose on the crisp 30 degree morning. Because I've run this route so many times, I have certain benchmarks in my head. Though I don't know exactly how fast or slow we're running, the time seems quick as mile and mile roll behind us.

I cast it off as possible misinterpretation. I don't REALLY know how far we've gone.

But as we get longer and longer, I become sure. I feel fine, he seems fine, but the time is pretty quick. Really quick for a long run.

We pass the half-marathon mark, the only landmark that I have tried to memorize as we close down on the last mile. 1:24:02.

What? That means that we've been running the last 13.1 miles at 6:24 pace rolling along these northwest hills without a second thought.

After the run we share confusion. We've never run within 9 minutes of that time on this run. It is legitimately a very tough run.

We continue to talk about it, and he says something profound:

Could....we....be....getting...faster?

We just blew the tubes out on a very long run at a very fast pace for my low heart rate.

And truth be told, I feel fine. Just fine.
----Quenton Cassidy