I’m a little behind on my Hal Higdon training schedule. But I’m doing it! I managed two miles during the week and three miles on my “long run” day. Yes, I’m putting long run in quotation marks because three miles doesn’t exactly sound impressive when you’re training to run 13.1. But that’s where we are. I’ll have to bump up the mileage a little more each week, and we’ll get there.
At least that’s what I’m telling myself. I’ve also hit a bit of a mental wall lately. Not the kind runners talk about at mile 10, but the kind where you’ve taken just enough time off that convincing yourself to put your running shoes back on becomes an Olympic event of its own. Luckily, a cold front moved through Florida, which made getting back outside considerably easier. There is nothing quite like running in sweltering Florida heat to make you question every decision that led you to this moment.
Apparently, I’m a Morning Runner Now
I’ve been trying to move my runs from the evening to the morning. The Disney Half Marathon starts ridiculously early, so I figured I might as well start getting my mind and body used to running in the morning. Granted, my morning runs aren’t happening nearly as early as race day, but it’s a start. And I’ve discovered something.
Morning runs hit differently. At least for me. When I run in the evening, I’ve already been up and moving all day. My muscles are awake, my joints have loosened up, and I can usually get going without too much trouble. In the morning? Not so much. My muscles apparently need a formal invitation, a lengthy stretching session, and a little negotiation before they’re willing to participate.
But if I’m going to be running 13.1 miles before most people have finished their first cup of coffee, I might as well get used to it now.
Things That Go Bump in the Dark
Here’s the thing about running in the morning or evening this time of year.
It’s dark. Like, really dark.
Because of that, I don’t run with headphones. No music, no audiobooks, no podcasts. Nothing. I want to be able to hear a car coming, footsteps behind me, or an animal rustling nearby. I try to stay aware of my surroundings, especially when visibility isn’t great.
So my running soundtrack consists of my breathing, my feet hitting the pavement, and the occasional creaking of my 40-plus-year-old knee. Keeps me humble. And since I’m running after a hurricane, there’s a whole new obstacle to consider: storm debris. People are still cleaning up their yards, which means there are piles of branches, leaves, and who knows what else along the roads. I’ve been giving those piles a wide berth because all I can imagine is some little critter tucked inside trying to stay warm.
There it is, minding its own business, when my creaking knee comes jogging by. I scare it. It scares me. Neither of us needed that kind of excitement before sunrise. So I give the debris plenty of room while keeping an eye out for traffic. It’s probably better for both of us.
These are the kinds of thoughts you have when you run without headphones.
They Said the Course Was Flat. I Have Questions.
Something I’ve been thinking about during training is hills. Even if your race advertises a nice, flat course, I recommend working some kind of incline into your training. Because I don’t believe in flat courses anymore. My last race was supposed to be flat, too. And technically, I suppose it was. Except for those little inclines that apparently don’t count as hills.
I don’t know how you run any distance without encountering some kind of incline unless you’re running laps around a track. And here’s the thing: a tiny incline probably wouldn’t even register on most people’s radar. But when you’re at mile nine, your legs are tired, and you’re getting dangerously close to hitting that wall?
That little incline suddenly feels like you’re climbing a mountain. I’ve also found that hills help me build endurance, so they’re something I want to keep incorporating into my training. Even if I complain about them the entire time.
I Run. I’m Not a Runner.
I’d love to run the entire 13.1 miles like I did seven years ago. But there’s a pretty big difference between then and now. When I ran my first half marathon, I’d been running off and on for about three years. This time, I picked running back up after a six-year break.
So I’m trying to be realistic about where I am and what my body can handle. Right now, my plan is to use run/walk intervals. I’m currently running for five minutes and walking for three. Hopefully, as training progresses, I’ll be able to stretch those running intervals and improve my overall pace.
But I’m taking it one training day at a time. Something interesting happened during my most recent “long run,” though. Around mile two, I finally hit a really good stride. You know those moments when everything starts feeling comfortable and you’re not counting down every second until you get to walk again? My timer went off, telling me it was time for my walking interval.
And I just kept running.
I ended up running for 13 minutes straight. Was that wise? I have absolutely no idea. Time will tell. But I felt good, and after struggling to get myself back into training, it was nice to have a moment where running actually felt good again. One thing I’ve noticed is that sometimes taking a walking break helps me recover, and other times it makes getting started again feel harder. It’s something I’m still figuring out.
Remember, I run. I’m not a runner. I’m not handing out professional training advice here. I’m just sharing what I’ve learned about myself and what seems to be working this time around.
And Then There Are the Balloon Ladies
Now, let’s talk about something I didn’t give nearly enough thought to when I signed up for the Disney Half Marathon.
The Balloon Ladies.
If you’ve ever participated in a big race, you probably know that most have some kind of time limit. They have roads to reopen, traffic to restore, and an entire operation to wrap up once the runners come through. Some races have pace groups with runners carrying signs showing their expected finish times. Disney has pace groups, too.
But Disney also has something with a much more intimidating reputation. Women carrying Mickey-shaped balloons. They’re affectionately known as the Balloon Ladies, and they’re essentially the people you don’t want to see catching up to you. Disney’s published minimum pace requirement is 16 minutes per mile, and the Balloon Ladies traditionally maintain that pace from the back of the starting field. If you fall behind the required pace, you risk being swept from the course.
Which sounds simple enough. Sixteen minutes per mile? I can do that. Except this is Disney. And Disney makes everything extra. There are characters along the course. Not just the usual characters you can meet in the parks, either. Marathon Weekend is known for bringing out some pretty fun and sometimes rare characters.
Which means there are photo opportunities. And lines. And bathroom stops. And suddenly, that comfortable pace you thought you had starts disappearing while you’re standing in line to meet a fictional character. I recently saw a Reel about the Balloon Ladies, and apparently other runners are pretty good about calling out where they are so everyone knows how much time they have.
Can you imagine? You’re standing in line for a picture, and someone yells that the Balloon Ladies are getting closer. Do you abandon the photo? Do you gamble that the line will move quickly? Do you suddenly discover a speed you didn’t know you possessed?
These are decisions I didn’t anticipate having to make when I registered for a half marathon. Right now, my plan is simple. Run the race. Skip the pictures. But I also know myself. I’ve seen past race character appearances featuring Woody and Bo Peep, and I’m a Toy Story kid. If I came around a corner and saw them standing there with practically no line?
I can’t promise I wouldn’t stop. And don’t even get me started on Jack and Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas. Those are characters you don’t typically get to meet outside special Halloween events. I’d have to at least consider it.
So we’ll see what Disney has waiting for us in January. And hopefully, whatever it is, I’ll be far enough ahead of the Balloon Ladies to enjoy it.
One Run at a Time
So that’s where training stands this week. Two miles during the week. Three miles on Saturday. A 13-minute stretch of running that felt surprisingly good. A new appreciation for cooler weather. And an ongoing internal debate about whether I could sacrifice a few minutes for a picture with Woody.
I’m behind schedule, but I’m moving. I’m learning that morning runs require a little more preparation, that my knee apparently has its own sound effects department, and that a Disney race involves more strategy than simply getting from the start line to the finish line. There are still miles to build, intervals to figure out, and plenty of early mornings ahead. But for now, I’m showing up.
And sometimes that’s the hardest part.
Come run with me. We’re getting there.