Running

Now's the time to plan for a long-distance Alaska footrace

Spring is the time of year many of us rise off the couch, squint into the distance, and muse out loud to a loved one or the dull roar of canned applause on TV: "I think I would like to sign up for a run this summer. Maybe something ambitious. Something like a half marathon, or a marathon, that I will need to train for."

However, selecting a plan that works is a daunting task. And if you don't have one you're sunk -- right back into the couch. There are many plans available online, but no two are the same, so it can be difficult to choose.

I recommend writing your own plan, at least once. It's more interesting and satisfying than just choosing one, because it puts you in the driver's seat. Even if you end up downloading a plan, it's helpful to at least understand the basics. What follows are some tenets and tools you need to design and make choices about your own training and not just throw in the towel once a monkey wrench (travel, illness, injury) throws you a bit off course, which is almost inevitable.

My first half-marathon training plan

My knowledge of how to design a good training plan comes from several undergraduate semesters in college. This was not just any college, either. An ESPN reporter who visited my school, the New School in New York City, wrote an article (http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=darcy/090216) specifically about the lack of sports or even sports interest on campus. He did, however, note our running team. At the time we called ourselves the Smokers, which had a double meaning perfect for our skinny-jeans-wearing, liberal arts student body. Sure, our running team ran kinda fast. We smoked West 11th Street for the chance to see Sarah Jessica Parker up close, or to grab some bubble tea in Chinatown. But the sport of choice on my "campus" (a courtyard between buildings) was actually chain smoking.

Anyway, it was in this too-cool-for-school environment that I came to love running, and I designed my first training plan with the help of a professor. I trained for, and ran, my first half marathon with this plan and have designed plans for many races since, including many more halves and two full marathons. I am very rarely injured (knock on wood). I credit, irony notwithstanding, what I learned in college for building my confidence and ability to run longer and longer distances, with the aid of a well-written plan tailored specifically for me.

Not your average Jack Daniels

In college, we studied Jack Daniels' training method. No, it wasn't whiskey to compliment the smoking. Jack Daniels is a world-famous running coach and author of the book "Daniels' Running Formula." His approach is highly methodical, and soothingly prescriptive. Essentially, he believes that runners improve based on tailored training, at varying paces unique to the individual. To determine these paces, there is a speed test, called a time trial, at the very beginning of training.

In college my team went to a track and took turns running as hard as we could for two miles, or eight laps, while our coach timed us. Then, while we collapsed in the grass, Daniels' formula broke down our recommended pace based on our time. From there, we created our training plans.

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I learned that almost all of my training needed to take place at my endurance pace, or what Daniels calls "easy/long" pace. In practical terms, this is my pace when I go running with friends and chat amicably and comfortably the entire time. No more than 10 percent of weekly runs should be spent on speed training, which is when I have a hard time talking comfortably while running or am breathing too hard to have any conversation. Our coach reminded us that spending more than 10 percent of our weekly runs on speedwork made us susceptible to injury. Being waylaid at home watching "Arrested Development" reruns would cancel any benefits.

Mapping it out

I also learned some basics about calendaring. First, it's important to start training with some sort of "base," or regular mileage, because each week of training would only increase mileage 10 percent. This meant that if I started training for a half marathon running an average of 10 miles a week, I would only add on one additional mile per week until I hit a certain point.

With a 10 percent increase in training per week, three to five months is plenty of time to train for a distance race even though every fourth week has steeply reduced mileage to allow for recovery. Plus, in the final month of a training plan, a sharp decline in miles, or "tapering", allows for rest before the race.

This brings up another thing that was drilled into me: Runners need a day of rest each week to recover and avoid injury. No ifs ands or buts. The only exception might be a short run the day prior to a race just to get moving, or a short, slow run the day after a long training run. There are some superhuman runners that, oblivious to pain or human suffering, can run days in a row without injury. These are the same people who always find the short line at the grocery store and look good in any cut or color of clothing. They are strange, not to be trusted. Let's face it, they are not you and me, try as we might. So I don't try. I rest between runs.

Finally, I learned what training looks like from day to day, in real time, on my calendar. Each week of training looks roughly the same, but with different mileage. During the week, there will be several short runs and then, once a week and usually on a weekend, a long run. The long run is the big thing, the heart and soul of training. Maybe even more than physically preparing a runner for the race, the long run psychologically brings home the fact that the human body can cover amazing and absurd distances. I've actually become so used to long runs that I miss them when I don't have them. They are a fixture of my weekend, the anchor to either my Saturday or Sunday morning. It's when I feel the luxury of time away from the workweek, and can zone out into a podcast, music, or silence with the rest of the day yawning out in front of me. When I'm not training for something, I feel a little lost in the big possibilities of two full days. It's absurd, I know. I am, admittedly, addicted.

Antsy on race day

My dad tells me that anxiety and excitement are, at their root, the same feeling. I've thought about this on race day, knowing deep down that I have worked hard and have prepared well, but feeling the energy and thrum of all the other runners around me stir up a feeling of nervousness anyway.

Training is and isn't magic. The hours and miles build slowly enough that the culmination, the race, is actually the result of a very careful and specific formula coupled with long hours of practice. However, it is an incredible feeling knowing that a plan, over the course of days, weeks, and months can actually deliver you to the start of a long race prepared to run an absurd number of miles.

It's probably a distance you barely thought possible at the beginning, but, incredibly and gradually, you can get there.

Alli Harvey lives, works and plays in Anchorage.

Alli Harvey

Alli Harvey lives in Palmer and plays in Southcentral Alaska.

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