Boston Marathon Training Run in TrackTown USA

“If only the walls could talk.”

That’s what Molly, Lane (Molly’s 20-year-old daughter), and I thought on Saturday when our Airbnb host in Eugene, Oregon, told us running greats Ryan and Sara Hall had stayed in the very same cottage where we were spending the night before an 18-mile training run! It was a sign we were going to have an epic run in the city nicknamed TrackTown USA.

Three runners questioning dubious weather.

We were right—but for the wrong reasons. Heavy raindrops batter the cottage roof all night, as blustery gusts of winds lash the moss-covered trees outside the window. Clouds of far-more-than-50 shades of grey crowd the sky. Groans fill the cottage as we contemplate 3+ hours outside in this weather. This is definitely going to be a run to remember. I try to lighten the mood by joking we hit treadmills in TrackTown.

Instead we layer on Saucony Bullet Capris (Molly and me) and Bullet Tight (always-cold Lane), jackets (them) and a vest (me), and portable porches (known outside of Oregon as “running hats”), and grimly head into the elements. We run a few blocks toward the paved trail that hugs the banks of the Willamette River. It’s somewhat familiar territory for me, as I ran my fastest 26.2 in the 2009 Eugene Marathon, and I conquered a 22-mile training run there in the lead-up to that race. Molly and Lane are running the Eugene Marathon on May 1, so the run is ideal training for them; the flat terrain isn’t great simulation as a Boston Marathon training run (the East Coast course is much hillier), but my legs and lungs were grateful for the more tabletop-like route.

The plan, magic-marker style.

Our coach-dictated workout is laid out like this:

4-mile warmup to “wake up” our legs

2 miles alternating 1:00 building gradually to 5K feel, 2:00 ease off

3 x (¾-mile @9:15 pace, ¼-mile ease off)

2 miles alternating 1:00 building gradually to 5K feel, 2:00 ease off

3 x (¾-mile @ “a little faster than before,” ¼-mile ease off)

4 miles “controlled and comfortable”

Molly and Lane, ready to rock this run.

I try a new fueling tactic, taking in a GU Energy Gel earlier than usual, at Mile 2 (then again at miles 4, 8, 12, and 15). When it’s time to kick it up a few notches at Mile 4, Molly and I repeat it’s a “gradual build,” meaning we can progress from second gear to slightly more than fourth gear without gunning the motor. Somehow this mental game saves us slightly, knowing we don’t have to push hard the entire minute. The wind pushes us around, making me grateful we don’t need to be nailing a specific pace during these two miles.

When it’s time to shift to 9:15 pace, us mother runners steel ourselves with a reminder we get a quarter-mile break from the effort. As pea-size raindrops pelt us sideways, I realize chunking it up is the way to get through this workout both because of the weather—and the effort. So during the first ¾-mile race-pace segment, when I think about it being the first of six, I quickly discard that thought, letting it be carried away by the wind that never seems to be at our backs.

We know this system far too well now.

Once we’re thoroughly soaked, the miles tick off surprisingly quickly: The workout is challenging, but varied. It’s time for a third GU; it’s halfway through the run; we have “only” eight miles to go; just 10K left. The final three ¾-miles are the toughest for me: Lane and I keep reminding two-steps-ahead Molly of our agreed-upon tactic that I’ll lead the pace. We flip directions with two repeats left, and the wind pummels us. I give up checking my Garmin, telling Molly and Lane, “I’m doing my best, whatever the pace is.” At this point, we’re on a part of the race course I remember well, so I summon strength I had during that PR-effort. [Post-run, my coach points out we maintained 8:30 pace during this section—hot damn!]

Runners with attitude.

We should be jubilant when we hit Mile 14—only easy cooldown remains—but we’ve lost the trail, and the rain is falling harder. Running on a sidewalk next to a major road, we are walloped by a wave of water sent up by a passing car. Water fills my shoes. After asking for directions, we wend our way back to the path. Our spirits rise when we spy a sign telling us a pedestrian bridge near our Airbnb is 3.5 miles away.

Out of boredom, I command Lane, a sophomore at Oregon State University, to entertain us with tales of college life. Halfway through mile 16, the sun breaks through the clouds; my hands feel dry for the first time in nearly three hours—and my feet suddenly have more spring. Our Garmins click over to 18 miles just as we reach the road the cottage is on. We now have our own running tales to tell—no need for the walls to speak.

We did it!

Have you had an epic training run recently? Share details about it in Comments section below this blog post on our website. 

If you’re running the Eugene Marathon, we hope to see you there: We are going to be selling our books and merchandise at the Eugene expo, including this limited-edition, short-sleeve technical T-shirt. We suspect your friends will be green with envy when you wear it!  

You know you want one!