Sunday is the Missoula Marathon which means the vast majority of runners are in some sort of taper as part of their training plan. Webster’s defines “taper” as the “gradual diminution of thickness, diameter, or width in an elongated object.” Um . . er . . . . . that raises all manner of interesting comments, but it’s not quite what I was looking for. Fortunately, wikipedia, that font of always accurate internet knowledge gives a sports related definition of tapering: the practice of reducing exercise in the days just before an important competition.
Madness, on the other hand, is a bit more universally understood. From Webster’s: “the quality or state of being mad: as a : rage b : insanity c : extreme folly d : ecstasy, enthusiasm.” My own taper with the Run Wild Missoula training group is a 2 week period, or three if you count down from the last big long run of 22 miles. A 50 mile week was followed by a 36 mile week and now down to perhaps a 22 mile week. The theory holds that the taper allows time to build up your energy stores, get fresh legs under you, get hydrated and generally get refreshed before the big day. The taper works. Though not without a bit of madness.
Last year, before the Missoula half-marathon, my first race, I gave up beer the week before in an effort to maximize hydration. Yeah, that was a bit extreme, especially for a beer blogger. A few weeks before I’d come down with a case of walking pneumonia, knocking out several weeks of training and leaving me coughing up some kind of lung coating that would make 3M envious. Yet, on race day, I had energy to burn, was hydrated and soaked in the atmosphere the entire 13.1 miles.
At this point, all the training for this year’s marathon is in the books. My 615 miles during the training group are logged and done. No amount of additional running will make any difference for the race. Sunday long runs dropped from 22 to 14 miles and finally down to a walk-in-the-park 8 miler. Weekday runs are an easy 4 miles at a slow pace. Race planning is done. Stay loose, take it easy and play it cool.
Which is exactly why I stepped wrong in a pothole during my Saturday easy run, rolling my foot and straining the muscles in my shin. For the Fourth of July we escaped up to Flathead Lake for some camping near Rollins. There’s a great road running along the lake shore with virtually no traffic and stunning views of the lake. Apparently those views were a little too enticing and I narrowly avoided taking a digger into the pavement while recovering from my misstep. The pain didn’t show up until more than 24 hours later. Sharp hits to my shin with every step. Uggh.
The taper is complicated enough. Complicated? Yes, that’s where the madness comes in. The serious drop in running drives some runners nuts. Stir crazy, if you will. Not me. I welcome the rest. Some obsess over eating habits. The drop in running means a drop in calorie burning leading to worries about weight gain. Others obsess over race planning, repeatedly calculating splits, gel intake, water consumption and more.
Me? On Friday night up at Flathead Lake, I had a dream. I was running the marathon and coming up on the first aid station. It was a wooden shack by the side of the road. Runners entered on one side, stepped up to a counter and ordered from the server. Paper plates were lined up for quick production with hard-boiled eggs and toast. All you needed to do was select what meat you wanted, sausage or bacon. Except the server – some snotty looking, hat wearing woman – was pretending I wasn’t there. No soup for you!
The dream then switched to some small, clapboard sided house in the middle of a big flat field. Think Kansas. I was outside where a bunch of blankets were lined up like someone was having a picnic. I was desperately running around trying to get the people in the house to hurry up and get back to running. The wind was coming up and I gathered the blankets to carry them inside. I looked up to see fierce storm clouds brewing. Why weren’t we running??? It was already 8:30 a.m. and we weren’t even half way to the Higgins Bridge. As the clouds barreled towards me, a huge gust of wind blew an inflatable alligator far past the house and out into the field. I was relieved to learn I did not need to go get it.
I could not make this up. Plus, it isn’t too hard to figure out what was on my mind. Apparently, anxiety is my madness of choice during the taper. With the pain in my shin, I spent today filled with gloom and doom scenarios about the effect come Sunday. Frankly, with a little care and rest, all should be fine. Still, I wanted to spend the last few days leading up the the Marathon getting stoked, not worrying about pain. Last year, it was pneumonia and getting hit by a car. This year was mild by comparison with a few shoe and tendon problems. Either way, when the taper hits there’s nothing to do but get ready to run.
Know what is helping the pain in my shin? A fine craft beer.
