Exactly what Liviu Horvath and Inkwrat said. Listen to your body, plan to actually run a half before the actual half, and dgaf about times. I don’t run with music but by mile two, regardless of how far I plan to run, I’m usually deep in thought anyway. Sometimes I can conjure up a nice rhythmic song to kick around in my head in between thinking. For me, running has gone from punishment to pleasure and has had an incredibly therapeutic effect on my mental health. Get yourself a goofy hat from sprints and a nice pair of running shoes at a good knowledgeable running store. I also love balega socks, lol. Oh, and yeah, body glide is your best friend. And for me, any diaper cream will heal chafing. Maybe other people use other things, but that’s what works for me. Enjoy!
I started running for the same reason you started weight lifting. The thing that keeps me running is the community. I meet friends most mornings to run and we have this great time slot where we can catch up, in a healthy way. There’s no alcohol or food, just a solid block of time to talk, and we get exercise done for the day. Find someone to run with
For actually getting to the start line: there are some good free training plans on the runners world site
The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong ... idk wtf that actually means but slow & steady - in training & in running - is my advice.
Also I've known people to fall in love with running, and it always seems to have been a good thing for them.
Find a training plan and a beginning half group to run with. When you get tired of running, walk until you can run again. Run as slowly as possible. Don't reward yourself with food but don't starve yourself either. Run/walk intervals will get you to the finish line. Lube anyplace that chafes, Vaseline is as good as the expensive stuff. Have fun! The first mile sucks, every time. You can do this!
First of all I'm glad to hear you are doing a half, versus a full. My first, but not last, 26.2 was a masterclass in what 'not to do.' My husband was following a very well planned regimented schedule and I. Was. Not. So on race day I woke up and met up with our running friends while they chatted about how they trained, and the tapering and what they ate that morning and their plans throughout the race to preserve their energy while aiming for their ideal finishing time.
I had a very appropriate dumb smile on my face because I had coffee that morning, the most miles I'd run prior to race day was - six. Six not so strong miles. And I had decided after learning my husband had been doing a full 26.2 every weekend for 2 weeks before race day I decided to just not. And I sat out those last two weeks to, you know, rest up!
My friend Seth, who once ran 40 miles because "he forgot he was running," looked at me upon learning of my innovative plan and I think he blacked out for a moment. Suffice to say he, and every one their said their good-byes and eulogized me as we made our way to the line.
My husband just hugged me like someone who was wondering what his life would be like as a wealthy widower. But without the enthusiasm because my nickname in my family is "Wolverine" because I have borderline primate genes that allow me to survive my own stupidity.
I'll end the suspense now and tell you I came in thrice to last. And the crowd that usually cheers you at the finish line, well it was just folks packing up. My husband, who'd finished hours before and checked the insurance policy, changed into his post race tshirt and flops strolled up faster than I was running, with the hot dog I asked him to have ready for me. If I survived.
And survived I did. First of all I'm so grateful this was Florida and not Colorado, where I've done more half marathons than I can count, with just a tad more prepping than the full.
Once the race started I was doing pretty good until we reached the literal spot where the
"(wo)men are separated from the "girls/boys" and the half marathoners went one way, and I, audaciously went for IT.
The entire five, six, 40 hours. I don't remember because it was way harder than childbirth. I tried to stay focused, be mindful of my breathing, drink at every water station, pace myself, take a few minute walk break then rev up again.
But soon, the same person that opted out of training and sitting out weeks before the big game took over. And this is when the 7 stages of grief kicked in.
Naturally I started with 7. Acceptance and 4. Bargaining - that I just needed to finish, preferably alive and not too injured. So I ran, I walked, I "jogged" (sorry for using this slur). I was friendly, I waved at folks, I thanked the volunteers.
Then 1. Shock when an 80 yo passed me. Spry and ALIVE. "Good luck hon." She said as she sprinted by, smelling of lilacs and forethought.
5. Depression and 6. Testing were paired up nicely. I remember having found God at mile 23 but by mile 23.1 where I was running through a neighborhood with speed bumps that felt like mountains, I was pretty sure there was no God so I spent the next 20 minutes telling him so.
Finally 3. Anger. That poor firefighter who was doing a subtle wellness check as I did something that looked like a lollygag as I passed the firehouse. I think I hissed but, he waved me away so who really knows.
And finally, 8. Yes, in marathon running there is an 8th stage and it is a full awakening where your mind and soul are joyful and sunny and hovering over your head but your body is a husk. It was then when I noticed a dude trying to talk to me and I signaled "Nope" and then I got all kinds of competitive. I don't know where she was for those 26 miles but at .2 GURL came to life.
When I made it, I didn't turn around to see where 2nd to last guy was, or the last one. But as I made my way with my broken body to THE CAR, a good mile AWAY, I could hear a small crowd cheering because apparently there is a prize for the last, but not the thrice.
All this to say.
1. Set realistic expectations, then lower them way down.
2. Train accordingly ;)
3 .On race day, in Colorado, water is your friend. Please note that in Colorado some races only provide limited water stations so YOU WILL DIE so bring plenty of water or plan for ways to hydro up along the way.
4. Stay out of your head. Try to be in the moment. Focus on your breathing, your pace, nature.
5. Do not, and I cannot stress this enough, show up in new running shoes, shorts, shirt, or hat.
6. Wear copious amounts of sunscreen
In conclusion, a marathon is something special for everyone who does it. I've run plenty and some are like an exorcisms while others are like nirvana. But I've loved them all in spite of never really placing I've finished EVERY RACE I'VE done.
The closest I came to greatness was running a half, when suddenly there were police motorcycles seemingly escorting me to the finish line but it was for the dude that just completed the full. :)
Exactly what Liviu Horvath and Inkwrat said. Listen to your body, plan to actually run a half before the actual half, and dgaf about times. I don’t run with music but by mile two, regardless of how far I plan to run, I’m usually deep in thought anyway. Sometimes I can conjure up a nice rhythmic song to kick around in my head in between thinking. For me, running has gone from punishment to pleasure and has had an incredibly therapeutic effect on my mental health. Get yourself a goofy hat from sprints and a nice pair of running shoes at a good knowledgeable running store. I also love balega socks, lol. Oh, and yeah, body glide is your best friend. And for me, any diaper cream will heal chafing. Maybe other people use other things, but that’s what works for me. Enjoy!
I started running for the same reason you started weight lifting. The thing that keeps me running is the community. I meet friends most mornings to run and we have this great time slot where we can catch up, in a healthy way. There’s no alcohol or food, just a solid block of time to talk, and we get exercise done for the day. Find someone to run with
For actually getting to the start line: there are some good free training plans on the runners world site
Start with small differences, 3 km, 5, 7, 10. Music help you to not give up, a rhythmic one
The race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong ... idk wtf that actually means but slow & steady - in training & in running - is my advice.
Also I've known people to fall in love with running, and it always seems to have been a good thing for them.
Take care of your joints and be as kind and supportive to yourself as you would be to a friend.
Find a training plan and a beginning half group to run with. When you get tired of running, walk until you can run again. Run as slowly as possible. Don't reward yourself with food but don't starve yourself either. Run/walk intervals will get you to the finish line. Lube anyplace that chafes, Vaseline is as good as the expensive stuff. Have fun! The first mile sucks, every time. You can do this!
First of all I'm glad to hear you are doing a half, versus a full. My first, but not last, 26.2 was a masterclass in what 'not to do.' My husband was following a very well planned regimented schedule and I. Was. Not. So on race day I woke up and met up with our running friends while they chatted about how they trained, and the tapering and what they ate that morning and their plans throughout the race to preserve their energy while aiming for their ideal finishing time.
I had a very appropriate dumb smile on my face because I had coffee that morning, the most miles I'd run prior to race day was - six. Six not so strong miles. And I had decided after learning my husband had been doing a full 26.2 every weekend for 2 weeks before race day I decided to just not. And I sat out those last two weeks to, you know, rest up!
My friend Seth, who once ran 40 miles because "he forgot he was running," looked at me upon learning of my innovative plan and I think he blacked out for a moment. Suffice to say he, and every one their said their good-byes and eulogized me as we made our way to the line.
My husband just hugged me like someone who was wondering what his life would be like as a wealthy widower. But without the enthusiasm because my nickname in my family is "Wolverine" because I have borderline primate genes that allow me to survive my own stupidity.
I'll end the suspense now and tell you I came in thrice to last. And the crowd that usually cheers you at the finish line, well it was just folks packing up. My husband, who'd finished hours before and checked the insurance policy, changed into his post race tshirt and flops strolled up faster than I was running, with the hot dog I asked him to have ready for me. If I survived.
And survived I did. First of all I'm so grateful this was Florida and not Colorado, where I've done more half marathons than I can count, with just a tad more prepping than the full.
Once the race started I was doing pretty good until we reached the literal spot where the
"(wo)men are separated from the "girls/boys" and the half marathoners went one way, and I, audaciously went for IT.
The entire five, six, 40 hours. I don't remember because it was way harder than childbirth. I tried to stay focused, be mindful of my breathing, drink at every water station, pace myself, take a few minute walk break then rev up again.
But soon, the same person that opted out of training and sitting out weeks before the big game took over. And this is when the 7 stages of grief kicked in.
Naturally I started with 7. Acceptance and 4. Bargaining - that I just needed to finish, preferably alive and not too injured. So I ran, I walked, I "jogged" (sorry for using this slur). I was friendly, I waved at folks, I thanked the volunteers.
Then 1. Shock when an 80 yo passed me. Spry and ALIVE. "Good luck hon." She said as she sprinted by, smelling of lilacs and forethought.
5. Depression and 6. Testing were paired up nicely. I remember having found God at mile 23 but by mile 23.1 where I was running through a neighborhood with speed bumps that felt like mountains, I was pretty sure there was no God so I spent the next 20 minutes telling him so.
Finally 3. Anger. That poor firefighter who was doing a subtle wellness check as I did something that looked like a lollygag as I passed the firehouse. I think I hissed but, he waved me away so who really knows.
And finally, 8. Yes, in marathon running there is an 8th stage and it is a full awakening where your mind and soul are joyful and sunny and hovering over your head but your body is a husk. It was then when I noticed a dude trying to talk to me and I signaled "Nope" and then I got all kinds of competitive. I don't know where she was for those 26 miles but at .2 GURL came to life.
When I made it, I didn't turn around to see where 2nd to last guy was, or the last one. But as I made my way with my broken body to THE CAR, a good mile AWAY, I could hear a small crowd cheering because apparently there is a prize for the last, but not the thrice.
All this to say.
1. Set realistic expectations, then lower them way down.
2. Train accordingly ;)
3 .On race day, in Colorado, water is your friend. Please note that in Colorado some races only provide limited water stations so YOU WILL DIE so bring plenty of water or plan for ways to hydro up along the way.
4. Stay out of your head. Try to be in the moment. Focus on your breathing, your pace, nature.
5. Do not, and I cannot stress this enough, show up in new running shoes, shorts, shirt, or hat.
6. Wear copious amounts of sunscreen
In conclusion, a marathon is something special for everyone who does it. I've run plenty and some are like an exorcisms while others are like nirvana. But I've loved them all in spite of never really placing I've finished EVERY RACE I'VE done.
The closest I came to greatness was running a half, when suddenly there were police motorcycles seemingly escorting me to the finish line but it was for the dude that just completed the full. :)
Congrats on your decision and happy marathoning!