Taper: Swimming vs. Running

Now that I am a few days away from my first running race and pretty much done with my running ‘taper,’ I have been reminded of how much I absolutely despise resting. Yes, that’s right, I hate resting when I have been actually training for something. And while this isn’t something I have had in a while, it is an all too familiar feeling I experienced quite often while swimming. I took to words to compare the two in an attempt to convince myself that these are just common taper blues and not reflections of being ill-prepared, out of shape or pursuing the wrong sport.

It’s been a long time since I have tapered for anything swimming related. Wow, almost ten years. That’s over a 1/3 of my lifetime. But, I remember the feelings like it was yesterday. I know I was a sprinter, and compared to most swimmers I had a very small yardage and training base to go off of but I loved training. I would rather put in a good 5k a day then rest. When taper started, I got grumpy. Why? Because swimming felt slow. My muscles felt like glue, my turnover felt crappy, I hated that I couldn’t ‘feel’ myself attempt to move through the water. I hated doing sprints with SO MUCH rest, because my muscles got tired and let’s face it, I got bored. We would do tether swims at the pool, and I got so damn tired of those things! Sure it’s fun to be slingshotted (I made that word up) across the pool, but trying to actually make it worthwhile and move your arms so fast they feel like they are going to fall off is tiring. Then, your mind starts to play with you. Like, oh, this all feels so shitty so don’t expect to actually swim well. You start paying way too much attention to splits and send offs and your heart rate seems alarmingly high compared to sets when you were training. Your body feels so beat up when in reality it’s just resting and recovering. You want to eat all of the things you see, and nothing ever seems like enough. You are so tired and because the practice is only 1500 feel like it’s a better use of your time to just sleep in then spend 5 minutes standing at a wall to only swim for 10 seconds. And what was worse, taper was lonely. I tended to taper alone and I can attest that one truly is the loneliest number. No one to share the blues and grumpies with, just sitting there in your own lane feeling sorry for yourself that the last season’s worth of training and racing has come to this: taper. On top of that, I would start to feel race pressure. Not in an anxious way, just like, so much work is all coming down to one moment. I never doubted my ability to swim – I had memorized my swims to the stroke and kick. I knew how each portion of the race should feel. I had to; I was so tiny and underdeveloped compared to all the other kids I was racing against – I had to know every in and out to my swims to be there.

Running, well, the whole thing is new. I have been running for three months now? So, pretty much everything has been new. Training went well; I set goals, put in the miles and hit pace. I rolled out sore muscles and dreamed of flying in my running shoes. Training felt great, and was really similar to the years of swimming; I lamented putting on my running clothes and lacing up my shoes, but within five minutes of getting out and picking up my feet I was happy I did. I liked the challenge, and I liked the pain of working to meet goals and go above and beyond. It gave me a glimpse of the person, the athlete, I used to be. And then there was rest, the dreaded taper. I wouldn’t consider this a huge taper or anything compared to something you train a lot longer for, but my body immediately responded the same way. I felt sluggish, like I was made of putty. All movements when I was running felt over – sensitized; my strike didn’t feel normal, and was my stride too short or too long? My desire to run fast was gone, mainly because nothing actually felt fast. I was tired, and because the runs felt crappy, I didn’t want to go. Motivation totally lacked, when only a week before a 6 mile tempo run sounded fun (go figure). Ah, the taper blues has set in. I kept my head in the game and tried not to get too psyched out, but let’s be honest, I totally talked myself out of shooting for the stars a couple times. My perceived effort for such easy runs had me convinced that I wouldn’t run any faster than 8 pace, and even that was pushing it! But, thanks to a lot of encouragement from others, I am not too worried for this weekend. Taper and resting sucks, and after an initial warm up period of about 20 minutes my last couple runs haven’t been too bad (a lot better than the 45 I required swimming).

 I want to think this is how my body gears up for a big perceived effort; thanks to my athlete brain and past life as an athlete, I know all too well what’s coming. I know the pain and the frustration and the thoughts and the little prayers you send for your legs to just move a little bit faster. I know the pain faces and the cramps and the heavy breathing and the feeling like there is a gorilla on your back (or you are hauling a piano). My body wants to train into it because that feels familiar, it’s gritty and its real and my muscles can fathom that. I am sure I will do just find this weekend and hit my original goal of both having fun and finishing in under 1:45; I am sure I will have a blast after the initial mile of panicked running. I have a plan that I hope I am able to stick with, and will write friendly reminders on my hands to read mid-race to remind me to race tall, relax, have fun, pace, Bernie lean if I have time and run faster than hell the last two miles. I have 13 miles to find my groove though, and that’s a lot longer than the :54 I had swimming.

Happy weekending everyone!