Marathon Training Plan

How to train for the California International Marathon?  Here's what I'm going to do:

My plan is to begin with long road runs, strides, and MRP runs specific to CIM.  The speed work until Blue Lake 5K will be hopefully preparing me for a really nice PR.  I think this is about as much as I'm willing to train specifically for a 5K.

After Blue Lake, I'll move into a more traditional marathon training plan with mile repeats, 800 meter track workouts, and tempo runs.  Since I find that I struggle most with speed work and going long, I make sure I'm getting plenty of each.  Struggle= weakness.  And as with most of my plans, I like to comfortably beat the weakness right out of myself.

The most important part of this plan for me and my piece of mind is the strides day (officially listed as Monday).  If I'm feeling particularly wrecked one week, I can easily pull the strides out and make it an easy run.  I've had a week in nearly every training cycle where I completely fall apart and need a quick revision to my week, so I'm pretty much building it into this one. :)

I love substituting things out too.  For example, this week, I'm supposed to do a long run of 7 miles and track workout.  But when a friend asked if I wanted to tag along on a 25 mile trail run along the coast, I said "OF COURSE".  So my long run will be easy on the trails and I'm gonna haul butt at the Sand Dollar Shuffle as my speed work.

Go easy and long, go medium length and medium hard, and then short and hard each week and you've got my basic strategy. :)

How do you choose a marathon training plan?  Do you build your own or do you find one online?

Mt. Elijah

July 19

Trudging up the unrelenting trail to Mt. Elijah, the highest point in the park felt endless. It was still early enough in the morning that the moisture drenched me within just a mile or so. We climbed through the Port Orford Cedar and Douglas Fir trees. We climbed through the rocks and mud. The gorgeous views and varied landscape reminded me of the SOB course. Rightfully so, as the SOB course is less than 50 miles to the east of this place.

Many of the same views from the race met us at the top of Mt. Elijah at 6,390 ft. including Mount Shasta and the wildflowers. Matt and I enjoyed seeing the differences in season as we traveled from the Ashland area, to Crater Lake, and now back along the Oregon-California border, only miles west. It was impressive the difference a single week meant to the flowers.

 The hillsides were covered with orange Wavyleaf Paintbrush and Sulphur Flower. We encountered no hikers atop the mountain. It felt as though Mother Nature handed us our own personal beautiful bouquet of flowering Mt. Elijah.

From the midway point, we descended the rest of the way back to the park. We skirted an exposed and rocky ridge line until emerging in a lush grassy oasis near Bigelow Lakes. These beautiful lakes always surprise me. Amongst the boulders and dusty soil hide these patches of life. For the first time today, I can hear birds chirping. They call this secret spot home.

We encounter our first hikers of the day, a retired couple determined to make it to the top of the mountain as well. They speak in a thick Aussie accent and lament their slowness when they see that we’re running the trail rather than hiking. I hope they realize how awesome I think they are, too. Most all the Americans, and mostly half of their age, we’ve seen on our trip don’t venture this far into the wild, let alone something as strenuous. I hope to continue an active lifestyle to their age and beyond, so senior hikers are inspirational to me.

The temperature rises as we lower into the valley. More hikers appear along the trail. Matt and I talked about my new outfit on our descent. In all, the skirt and shirt cost me $25. Most notable for this run was that it was my first with a running skirt. I have a hiking skirt, but it has too much fabric for me to enjoy often. When I found this Nike one at Goodwill for $3.99, I figured I’d give them another shot.

I absolutely love it except that it makes me feel like Trail Runner Barbie! Matt made jokes about my dainty outfit. My thighs stuck out awkwardly from beneath the skirt’s hem. My legs are muscular and laughably contrast from the ladylike skirt. I’m not exactly known for looking like a girlie runner. Most of my wardrobe consists of black shorts (I rotate four pairs of identical ones) and race shirts. “So does this make you Ken or G.I. Joe?” I asked.

We returned to the visitor center via the Big Tree trail. Two biologists collected data near Oregon’s tallest known Douglas Fir. They offered to take photos of Trail Runner Barbie and her sexy man, G.I. Joe. Matt said that he can’t be Ken, as Ken is too much of a pretty-boy.

As we removed our dusty shoes and gaiters at the car, a man approached us. “Are you going to run up Mt. Elijah next?” he asked in a sarcastic tone. “We just returned from there actually,” Matt replied. The man shuffled awkwardly and his gaze shifted to the ground, “Oh… well… which route did you take?” We told him of our route and the views from the top. As he walked away, he said to his friend, “Well, I’m glad people are still using the trails up there.”

 We stopped back at the campsite to get our tent, have lunch, and catch a quick scrub before 

 moving westward. Pretty civilized, huh?

On any given day, I’ll give a different answer when I think we’ll move on to our next home. Matt is eligible for a promotion and that always gets us thinking about it when locations come available. One thing I’ve noticed is that I’m not really in any hurry to leave. It’s not that I particularly love living here so much as it is the consistent climate at our home. With how hot and dry the rest of the country has been, I’m comfortably sitting at home on the coast under cloudy skies and 60F. As anyone that has been following me for more than a year can attest, this consistency as done wonders for my running. Every day I go out, I’m stronger than the previous one. I’m definitely not ready to give that up just yet.

 9.5 miles.
2:08.00.
2,390 ft. gain.
Highest point: 6,390 ft.

Oregon Caves

July 18

Our morning started out in the most unfortunate way: with oatmeal.  No matter how many health benefits it claims, I can’t bring myself to enjoy it.  It is palatable if I eat the super sugary kind because then it at least doesn’t look AND taste like oatmeal.  It tastes like candy instead.  The already-chewed texture always gets to me.  Granola and I get along just fine, but oatmeal and I will always have a love-hate relationship on camping trips.

The next stop on our week adventure was Oregon Caves National Monument.  The cave tour quickly plunged us into nearly total darkness.  It was damp and cold and very narrow.  

I’m mildly claustrophobic and planned to bail at the halfway point of the tour through their escape side door if it got to be too much.  The pictures on the brochure showed people on all fours crawling through the openings.  Today, that person would NOT be me.  My nose was still doing funny things from the sinus infection and was running like crazy.  As we walked from one cave room to another, I whispered to Matt, “Would it be inappropriate to snot rocket in here?”  He replied with a scolding stare.  Okay, I guess not.

The only other cave I have toured was man-made.  A retired iron ore mine near my hometown offers tours down into the carved out tunnels.  These things are always pretty cool.  My least favorite part is when they turn the lights out and show us how the explorers got around: by light of a single candle.  They also did this on the Oregon Caves tour.  

Stalactites and stalagmites grew from the floor and ceiling.  Every surface was wet and covered in a white calcium carbonate paste.  Since the stalactites grow at a rate of centimeter per 1,000 years, it was easy to see the damage people had done to this cave by collecting their own souvenirs.  In the 1800s, conservation was the last thing on anyone’s mind.  Many names were written on the rock and then covered in layers of calcium carbonate glaze, preserving them forever. 

 

Wandering through a naturally hollow area of the mountain, I imagined the hikers on trails above ground, some 1,000 ft. above us.  What would lead early settlers into a cave like this?  There was no evidence of mining inside the caves.  Maybe I’m too big of a wimp, but the idea of wandering into a cave and not being sure I’d find my way out sounds absolutely terrifying.  That’s not even mentioning encounters with animals that may also call this cave home.  That mostly comes from my childhood.  “Don’t stick your hands in holes unless you want them to get bitten off!”  I’m glad they’ve got gates at the ends, lights, and guides to give me tours now. 

 

We reached the halfway point and I felt calm enough to continue on.  We reached the largest room in the cave and stopped to explore.  Our guide pointed out a fault line over our heads.  I’ve never lived in a place with as many as they have here on the West Coast.  The guide also speculated the room was created when rocks in the tunnel fell from above.  Luckily, there were no earthquakes when we were inside.  I climbed up several tall ladders to the best room of all.  An entire wall of formations appeared.  These had been growing for millenniums!  Wow.

After the tour, we took a quick hike to the top of the hill that the caves rested in.  The views were just like they are often at home: foggy.  The week’s activities caught up with me that morning and I tried to convince Matt of a mountaintop nap.  “I think we should stay here and wait for the fog to break up,” I suggested.  The only thing that matched our fatigue that week was our appetites.  

 Lured back to the car for lunch, skies darkened as we hunted through the cooler.  Others dashed off to their cars during the light rain.  Matt and I enjoyed our lunch from the shelter of our rain coats and hardly noticed it.  When the thunder and lightning began, we decided to finally pack up. 

We drove to the nearest campground and set up our tent.  I caught a quick snooze and the rain stopped so Matt convinced me to go out for one more hike.  I also convinced him that a sundae would be the best reward for our hike, so we split a really delicious hot fudge one.

Bedtime came early.  I think I was in bed by 8pm.  Sleeping rocks.

oh, and so does Jiffy Pop.

Down Low and Up High at Crater Lake

July 18, Crater Lake day 3

We began our day with a run.  We chose a trail near our campground, called Annie Creek Canyon.  Making the steep descent to the creek was not easy on my still-stiff legs.   

Apparently, sleeping on the ground for several nights doesn’t help recover my sore racing legs..or it could be that we were sleeping at over 7,000 ft.  Who knew?   Even though car camping is more luxurious (because I bring my bed pillows, books, and all our sleeping pads), it still isn’t ideal.

Anything you think I could add? PS- The tent isn’t big enough to hold an air mattress, so that option is out!

We cruised along the packed dirt trail, snapping photos of the lush creek bed, covered in every color flower one could imagine.  The stark contrast from our previous rocky hike on Wizard Island made us appreciate the color even more.  The canyon walls were a softer pumice stone and eroded into towering pillars. 

We climbed out of the canyon after just a couple of miles and began on the Pacific Crest Trail connector through the park.  After a few minutes of walking, hands on knees to propel us upward, we retreated.  No point in wrecking myself before 9am, right?  We returned the way we came, effectively covering the Annie Creek trail twice.  We saw one other person along the trail.  Hopefully everyone else is still in bed.  I hate to think that people forget about this trail, I think it is my favorite at Crater Lake!. About five miles in all.

After a quick shower and some lunch, Matt somehow convinced my fatigued corpse me to do one more hike.  I talked him into stopping for coffee at the lodge on the way there.  Sometimes coffee is the only thing keeping me from turning into a total monster when I’m tired.  COFFEE COFFEE COFFEEEEEEE!!

Each of our three days at the lake brought different weather and we got to experience many of Crater Lake’s moods.  The third day was my favorite.  As we stopped along the Garfield Peak trail to take a photo, another hiker remarked to me, “They say that each day during the summer, approximately 2 million photos are taken of this lake.  Each day! That’s insane.”  While we stared at the lake and all her grandeur, Matt gazed off to the distance.  “I love the clouds,” he said, “Looks like thunderstorms later!”  I could sense an air of excitement in his voice.  Thunderstorms are very rare at our house as we might get one or so a year, tops.

This trail was unlike the others we hiked in the fact that it offered us views to the south.  Jagged rocky peaks stood out from the great expanse of green trees.  Matt pulled out the map to identify them and figured we could see about 40 miles to the south, despite the rapidly lowering clouds.

I sipped my coffee as we climbed higher above the lake’s rim.  When I was out of breath, I conveniently stopped for a photo and took my time adjusting the camera’s settings.  Eventually we reached a sign announcing another trail closure.  We estimated that we were about 300 ft. from the top at turn-around.  Since it was already July and there was this much leftover snow, I wondered, Is there any time of year that all the trails and roads are open?  I’m assuming it snows early too, so maybe three days in September is all?

The rest of our day looked like this:

A stop at the Grants Pass Dairy Queen.

I wonder how many Dairy Queen photos are on this blog.  Anyone keeping count?

And then a cozy night snuggled up in the tent along foggy Lake Selmac.

Wizard Island

July 16, Crater Lake, part 2.

My nose peeked out from under the sleeping bag, “Brrr”, I thought, “Where am I?”  I awoke every morning of the trip in a clammy sleeping bag.  I really enjoy camping when it is 30-60F outside.  Call me weird, but I sleep best in many layers, so the more snuggling with my outfit, the better. 

We planned extra time to explore West Rim Drive on our way to Cleetwood Cove and the boat tour.  Our plan was to hike The Watchman and take in the view from the fire lookout perched atop the mountain.  However, the trail was closed, citing icy snow patches and cliffs directly below them.  We decided to hike on an unmarked trail that left from the opposite part of the parking area.  It was probably similarly dangerous, but it didn’t include blatant signs that told us to go away. 

The small trail quickly met up with a snow field.  Most of our hiking experience has been on trail-free routes, so we didn’t have any qualms about blazing our own path through the snow.  Views of Wizard Island were spectacular.  We were positioned in just the right spot that we could look into the crater within the volcano within Crater Lake. 

Just before we turned back, we spotted our first interesting wildlife (those pesky squirrels and chipmunks don’t count!), a Yellow Bellied Marmot.  It was clear that he hasn’t seen many hikers.  He hesitated to come from his hiding spot, but as I stood quietly long enough, he inched out more and more to get a better look at us.  This is what I love best about national parks.  The wild animals in out of the way places are still wild.  And even though it is sad, I’m glad the visitors don’t spend much time outside of their cars when they do visit, because they would eventually grow accustomed to seeing people.

That yellow swirl in the water is pollen, runoff from the trees on the cliffs above.

Our boat tour around Crater Lake included a three hour stop at Wizard Island, the volcano responsible for sealing up the cracks in the lake.   

We climbed over many different igneous rocks and across soft cascading slopes of pumice.  My day was half over by the time we were midway up the crater.  I had to stop a lot and take a break.  Usually I stop and take photos to catch my breath, rarely admitting how exhausted I was.  When we reached the crater’s rim, we descended into the snow-filled hole a little to get away from the wind.  After a snack, my energy returned.   

Matt and I took turns sliding down the snowy hill.  We didn’t set the best example for the kids that also made the hike.  Suddenly, they were begging their parents to let them slide too.  So the mom gave it a try, then proclaiming loudly from the bottom, “It’s not too fast, sure come on down!” Everybody seemed to have a good time in the crater. 

The second half of the boat tour took us around a jagged rock formation in the lake called Phantom Ship.  Matt and I always joke how national parks have every. little. thing. named.  We looked at each other and smiled as they pointed out the name of each cove and inlet in the lake.  I enjoyed hearing about all the history this area has.  The geology of the area is particularly fascinating. 

This rock is called the Pumice Castle.

This is a green mustache.

Just a few moments before we reached the dock, a rain cloud parked itself overhead.  As if by instinct, my weatherman hubby pulls out his raincoat and puts it on.  Always prepared, he is.  He looked over at me, “Didn’t you bring yours?”

That night we decided to splurge on a dinner out, and apparently everyone else in our campground did too because there was quite a wait.  By the time we finished dinner, the rain stopped and we were ready for bed.  Perfect timing.