A LETTER FROM CHRIS SUAREZ
THANK YOU CHICAGO, FOR THE LESSONS
Anything you want to get better at is a series of learning experiences along the way. Over the past couple of years I have been working on becoming a better runner. There was no real motivating factor to do so. Running is something I had enjoyed in the past. I was never particularly great at it, but it was something I knew I could always do anywhere, without any money, and without the need to be with someone else.
I have found some incredible lessons hidden in my runs. Lessons I have used in business, in my relationship, with my kids, and even understanding myself a bit more.
Last week I ran the Chicago Marathon with 48,000 others. It was a pretty exciting race with four course records being broken and the world record being set by Kelvin Kiptum, finishing the race in just 2 hours and 35 seconds. To put that in perspective, I rolled in a full 1 hour and 35 minutes later - yes, an hour and half after he had crossed the finish line, grabbed a medal, and had a celebratory glass of water. Although so many stories swirled around the race, I’ll share just two simple lessons from my race. I plan on doing a deeper dive of running lessons after I finish the New York marathon in just three weeks - running through my favorite city in the world.
As many who read my blog know, I was coming off a pretty disappointing marathon from last November. When I fail at something, I like to deconstruct it, and then begin to reengineer a path forward. Over the past months I have adjusted my fuel intact, my sleep rhythms, and my weight training. I focused on building overall strength while improving my endurance. I came into Chicago just over 10 pounds heavier than when I ran Chicago last year, but leaner than I had ever been.
Was that going to be the difference? I am sure it helped. The difference however came down to one major thing. I committed to having fun while running the first half of the race. I love to run, and when I train, I never take it too seriously. I have run so many half marathons while training. I usually run them easily at a 7:30 per mile pace. I play some good country music. I have friends text me from time to time. I don’t put undue pressure on myself.
So the minute I crossed the starting line, my country music began. I listened to the same songs that I listen to while out on a training run. No special marathon playlist out of the gate. No music to pump me up. I just went out to run like I always do. And I had a few friends tracking me and texting me along the way. I was texting back. My wife and kids asked me to send them a selfie. I did so. I took some video and texted some updates to those that had taken time to run with me while I was training and to my friends from the crossfit community I worked out with. I just decided to go out and run my race. Did those things slow me down? Perhaps. When I passed 13 miles I was running at a 7:30 pace for the race. When I passed 18 miles, I was running at 7:32 pace for the race. As I crossed over 20 miles I was still at a 7:33 pace for the race.
Lesson number 1: When something becomes a routine, there’s no reason to make an event out of it.
I routinely ran that pace for long distances in training. There was no reason it should be any different on race day.
Did I finish the race at my usual 7:30 pace? Unfortunately not. The last five miles were not easy. There were a few reasons why. Most marathoners don’t train past 20 miles. The last 6 miles are left for race day. I think mentally I was certain I could run that pace for 20 miles. And so I did. I wasn’t certain I could run that pace for 26 miles. And so I didn’t. Small lesson learned and will tweak that in the future.
But post-race I was able to deconstruct my failed goal. I definitely had learned my lesson in New York - not to drink or eat anything at the race stations. My body isn’t used to it. I drank too much last November in my last marathon, my sodium levels dropped considerably, and my body rejected the sugar in the gatorade. So this time I came prepared. I trained so that I could avoid any water station or aid station completely. Although I don’t love to run with anything on me, I decided to bring two 10 ounce bottles of coconut water with some sodium. I trained with that for my long runs. I'd begin drinking at mile 5. Every two miles I’d take a sip of water. I’d avoid getting thirsty, and it would be all the fuel I needed. I would ration the water to make sure I had it for the final 21 miles of the race. I was surprised by the pain and cramping that showed up at mile 21. I wound up slowing considerably in those final 5 miles. I ended up crossing the finish line with a marathon time of 3 hours and 36 minutes. I missed my ideal goal time by about 6 minutes.
After the race I walked the mile and a half back to my hotel. When I got to the hotel I took off my belt that held my two bottles. In the first bottle, 6 ounces of coconut water remained. In the second bottle, 5 ounces of coconut water remained. Then it hit me. I had run 26.2 miles while drinking only 9 ounces of fluid. The reason for my cramping was clearly sitting in my half full bottles.
Lesson number 2: Long held beliefs and habits are incredibly hard to break.
I am a saver. I come from a long family line that saves. They saved food, saved money, saved things they’d never use again. They saved sugar packets and ketchup packets. They saved clothes they would never wear again. They saved leftovers. As a child, when I would receive candy or cookies, I would self-ration so I could enjoy it over a longer period of time. When my parents bought me a new pair of sneakers, I’d wear my old ones most days and the new ones occasionally, just to make sure the new ones lasted as long as possible. That is deeply based on not knowing when and if I’d receive another piece of candy, or another new pair of shoes. Saving brings a sense of security.
As I looked at the 9 ounces of water that I never drank during the marathon, I realized I still struggled with the fear of not having enough. I struggled with the fear of using something good too quickly. I rationed my water so carefully, I hadn’t even realized I wasn’t willing to drink and use what I had. That water represented a security blanket of sorts. Drinking too much might mean I didn’t have it when I needed it. And yet, when I really needed it, I acted as if I didn’t have it. I let a long-held belief or habit or even an emotional crutch affect my short term goal. Small lesson learned and will tweak that in the future.
As I think about those 26.2 miles in Chicago, sure I would change a few things. And yet, if I had changed them, there would be two or three other things that popped up for me to learn. And so I am on to New York in November - to learn a few more lessons before the next one.
Chris Suarez