Before runners cross the start line of the New Jersey Marathon, they hear two things: the bugle call to tell us to get to our post, followed by the ripping chords of Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run.”
When I got to the starting line earlier this month, I knew that my 18 weeks of training would come down to the next five hours. That training? Some would say unconventional, even controversial. I used “Hansons Marathon Method: A Renegade Path to Your Fastest Marathon.”
Unlike other marathon training programs, which typically have runs of 20 miles or longer, the Hansons method tops out at 16 miles, an appealing draw. But the training is hard, with runs six days a week, and midweek runs stretching to 12 miles. The purpose is to train on tired legs, to get you ready for the last 16 miles of the race, and not the first 20.
I chose it because I wanted a better finishing time. And I didn’t want to cry on the course, or crumble after the race.
I’d run two marathons before. The first, the 2011 Philadelphia Marathon, was, well, a first marathon. I walked a lot of the last 10 miles, but I finished in 4 hours 35 minutes 31 seconds and didn’t require immediate medical attention, so I considered it a victory.
In 2012, I ran the Chicago Marathon. A health issue unrelated to running cut my training to three days a week. I still ran it — very slowly and painfully, in just under five hours.
Keith and Kevin Hanson have been training professional and amateur distance runners for over 20 years. Last year the brothers, along with Luke Humphrey, an exercise physiologist and one of their coaches, published “Hansons Marathon Method.” In it, they’ve thrown out just about every standard of the marathon training program.
“Everyone asks, ‘Why a 16-miler?’ My question is, why a 20-miler?” said Kevin Hanson. “I’ll tell you why. Because you’ve been brainwashed. Because every program out there has a 20-miler, so it must be right?”
Instead, the program trains runners by making them run on tired legs, getting them ready for the marathon, they say, by building cumulative fatigue.
The beginner program, which maxes out at 57 miles a week, includes three 16-mile runs — but you’re not well rested when doing them. The 16-miler is done on a Sunday, after a six-to-eight-mile run on Saturday, a short run on Friday and a long tempo run on Thursday. Monday I was out running again, followed by an interval workout on Tuesday and a rest day on Wednesday.
“Running on tired legs is a big part of our plan, because you’ve got to get used to it,” said Keith Hanson. “It’s not a bad thing to feel tired.”
As I made it through Week 10, Week 11, Week 12, I felt a change. I lost weight, a first for me in marathon training, even though I was eating about 3,000 calories a day. I felt stronger, fitter and faster, something I never achieved when running three or four days a week.
“If someone can only run three days a week, I don’t think they’re going to be properly prepared for the marathon,” said Keith Hanson. “You can’t possibly callous your body to the rigors of the marathon itself.”
I’d never run so much in my life. This was exhausting, and draining. I found myself canceling dates with friends and family, and crashing at 8 p.m. But I’m lucky. I’m a freelancer and work from home, so I could schedule longer midweek runs, which can come in at 12 miles — as well as naps — during the day. I don’t know how I would have squeezed them in if I had an office job.
I also developed very painful shinsplints, typically attributed to high mileage in runners, that had me missing workouts in the last month of the program, and turned my ankle while training, an injury that never quite went away.
“At 40 to 50 miles a week, I think people are putting their health in jeopardy unless they’re at a higher level,” said Dr. David Webner, director of running medicine at Crozer-Keystone Health System in Pennsylvania. “That’s a lot for the recreational marathoner.”
Dr. Webner recommends that casual marathoners run three days a week, mixed in with non-weight-bearing exercises like elliptical workouts and swimming, to minimize the risk of injury.
Still, when that bugle blared on Sunday, I felt ready. And Kevin Hanson was right: I was able to feel my pace nearly down to the second without using a GPS watch.
I knocked out 5, 10, 15 miles right on schedule and was startled when I came to Mile 20. The crushing desolation and pain and angst that I felt in Philadelphia and Chicago? Absent. I’d been passing people from the halfway mark, but at 20 miles, I was mowing them down in clumps. I never stopped to walk. I even picked up the pace, and by the time I hit 26 miles, I was tired, but smiling.
I crossed the finish line, arms raised, at 4 hours 19 minutes 7 seconds, beating my personal record by more than 16 minutes.
After the race, I grabbed a soft pretzel and washed it down with a bottle of water and a Bloody Mary. No keening. No crumbling. I even stayed out late playing pinball that night.
I’m not sure if I’ll put myself through the Hansons method again. I like to run, but I don’t want it to take over my life.
But did it work? Absolutely. The proof isn’t in just the time, but in the smile.