22 miles is a LOT of miles...

This past sunday's long run was the longest of 'em all, thus far. But more than the distance, all 22 miles of it, it was the time - 4 hrs 20 min - that felt really long. Not long in the sense that you felt really bored and wanted it to be over with - but more of a feeling of time itself slowing down to a crawl.

As usual, it was 8 am when we started - but it being Oct 31, we had just readjusted our clocks and switched from Pacific Daylight Time to Pacific Standard Time, which translated to an extra hour of sleep overnight. And I was grateful for that. There were 5 of us from our "4-hour marathon" training group that showed up - Doug, Roger, Esther, Debbie, and yours truly - we have become the sunday regulars over these past several weekends. Our training group had started out 15-20 people strong in August - but since then we've had people injured, others dropping off, etc. And some others who are still training, only not with us on sundays. Our coach/captain/philosopher/guide Cristy was there as usual - she was supposed to be training for this marathon but got injured - which is a real bummer if you are trying to lead a marathon training group! Amazingly, she has continued to guide us in our efforts, including keeping us company on our sunday runs - mostly being there alongside us on a bike, timing our mile splits on tempo runs, or sometimes running some short stretches with us as she recovers, and always checking in on folks, offering tips, advice, and such. Man, that's committment. Having her around has made such a huge difference for us.

It was a beautiful day as we took off. The plan was to run all 22 miles of it on pavement/road. Not nearly the funnest way to run 22 miles, but given that the actual race would also consist of running almost entirely on pavement, this would be good training (I guess). We started off at Nisene Marks St. Park in Aptos, but instead of running into the forest as we usually, we ran towards Capitola. From Capitola we were to take the "Wharf-2-Wharf" route in reverse. (The Wharf-2-Wharf race is a highly popular fun 6 mile race from Santa Cruz to Capitola). After hitting the Wharf-2-Wharf starting point, we were to run for one further mile (to complete 11 miles one-way) and then turn around.

The first half was great. I don't remember too much of it running-wise. We were chatting away about all and sundry, the day was sunny but there was a cool breeze in the air. And the scenery kept changing - from the quaint (yet sadly super-commercial) village of Capitola, through East Cliff Dr and all the surfing hotspots, along various lagoons, past people playing beach volleyball, along the levee of the San Lorenzo river, through the beach Boardwalk in Santa Cruz. We sure are lucky to be able to live and run in such an interesting setting.. At the 10 mile spot, Esther and Debbie decided to turn back - they wanted to do only 20 miles total (I use "only", purely in a relative sense, mind you). We were now reduced to 3 folks - myself, Roger, and Doug. The trio of us went about a mile or so further, until the lighthouse, and then turned back, pretty-much retracing our steps.

It was past the 14-15 mile mark that I started feeling it - the cumulative effects of the distance we'd covered, and the duration for which we'd been out running. The conversation slowly died, the day grew hotter. I felt like I had to maintain my rythm perfectly, put one step after the next. One misstep and I'd probably injure myself and collapse.. Everytime we'd stop at a water stop, the legs would start stiffening in no time, and we had to hobble back for a bit before normal motion would get restored. My body was clearly on "edge", you had the sense that you were pushing the limits of your system.

These last miles felt like nothing else I can remember - usually, if you are running hard, you end up feeling completely out of breath, or your legs are screaming in pain and all the lactic acid accumulation, etc. But here, I was breathing well, my legs weren't in pain, and so on - just a sense that the overall energy level of my body had dropped.. and alongwith it, brain capacity, the ability to think deep, have an articulate conversation, etc. In the last couple miles Roger and Doug were still talking about something, but I wanted no part of any conversation, my brain was only able to process superficial stuff - "Ok, here's a car. Ok, the car went by. The car was a green Honda. Ok, here's some grass. There's another plant - hey, there's a hill, here it comes. Ok, here we are, running up the hill. Still running up the hill. There, that hill is done. Oh - there's one more, up ahead." (and so on).

When we finished, it was a good feeling - we'd crossed the 20 mile barrier in one piece! The marathon would just be 4 more miles! But if this experience was anything to go by, I know that those last 4 miles would be like nothing else I've known.. And I now have developed new respect for those folks that run marathons in 6,7 hrs - putting your body on edge for 4 hours was challenging enough, 6-7 hrs must be quite something! Clearly, a marathon is not solely about running, it is truly a test for your entire body and mind.