Honestly, I can’t believe I’ve never written about this. For decades, I’ve loved the feeling of that first time when everything clicks on a run a few weeks into a return to more regular running, whether it’s after an off-season, an injury, or a busy time in life. It’s magic. I’m sure I’ve noted it in my various logs along the lines of “I’m a runner again” and “nearly a runner again,” when I’ve felt on the cusp of that step. These days, I eagerly await it whenever I’m ramping back up.
While that back-to-it leap is as amazing as it is predictable, I’m also fascinated by the small leaps that at least occasionally interject themselves in otherwise more linear improvement. This past week, I found myself thinking I was on the edge of one of these tipping points and, later in the week, confirmed it. I’d raced an 80-kilometer event the previous Saturday and logged a casual marathon on Tuesday, but my paces on a couple of easy runs later in the week were noticeably faster than they were a few weeks earlier.
The view from a recent evening run along the shores of Lake Wanaka. Photo: iRunFar/Bryon Powell
I can’t say for sure what caused this latest mini-leap. Was it that running with some focus for nearly 10 hours simply changed my perspective? Had some cardiovascular gains consolidated during some of the easy days before and after the race? Had some relative down time from work on the associated road trip to and from the race left me fresher … or, in contrast, had a more recent work opportunity stoked my fire a bit? Was I running a pound or two trimmer, leaving more pep in my step? I love that I’m left wondering almost as much as I savor the improvement.
But, as I often have over the past decade, I also ponder whether there are a multitude of biomechanical, cardiovascular, and metabolic ledges, and that I’d just made my way over one of them. A point where the human body, in this case mine, unlocks a new level, like a car shifting to a new gear rather than accelerating within it.
The grass track at the Wanaka Rec Centre. Photo: iRunFar/Bryon Powell
I think back to running in college and my coach telling me that my stride really cleaned up at around 60 seconds per 400-meter lap. While I always thought my transition to fluidity came at a slightly faster pace (closer to 58 seconds per lap), this specific biomechanical ledge was visibly apparent somewhere in that range. This past month, I’ve added some post-run strides once or twice a week, as well as before any parkrun 5ks I pop into. Late this past week, I worked up the courage* to push the last few strides one day and really get up on my toes. While at more casual running paces, such ledges are rarely as apparent as here, but I went from running flat-footed to an entirely different stride. A few days later, I ran a track session and worked myself back up onto my toes for the last two 400-meter intervals. My pace was a good bit faster than some 400s a few weeks earlier. Here, in a very different context from noticeably improving at a casual training pace, a mechanical change (even if deliberate rather than fortuitous) yielded a faster pace.
Perhaps external stride analysis would similarly note changes for my recent mini-leap at more casual paces, or at least do so for some non-sprinting mini-leaps in performance. I don’t know. Consider this article an exercise in externalizing latent wonder.
Call for Comments
- What about your own running leaves you wondering?
* See decades-long Achilles injuries.
What 6:20 pace looks like in a middle-aged man. Photo: iRunFar/Meghan Hicks
