Running Slowly
A Personal Essay
by Rachael Nevins
Since crossing the finish line of the New York City Marathon last November, I have run nearly all my miles in Zone 2. My goal is to be able to maintain my usual base pace with a much lower heart rate. Maybe the result will be faster times in races, but my real reason is that I don’t want to ask my heart to work so hard.
I had of course heard the saying Run slow to run fast, but using my heart rate to gauge my pace has given new meaning to the Run slow half. For weeks I have been running at a much slower pace than I am accustomed to. This form of training has demanded patience in my efforts as well as faith that these efforts are not for naught. Lucky for me, I’m stubborn.
A few weeks ago I told my husband what pace I hoped to run that day. “You can do it!” he said to encourage me, but I explained that my pace really isn’t up to me. Neither my will nor my desire is in charge. Just my heart.
Surrendering to my heart has meant accepting that progress doesn’t necessarily follow a linear trajectory upward. Covid took me away from training for more than two weeks starting at the end of last year, which wiped out any of the progress I had made in December. And even now, while my progress overall is steady, a week in which I seem to be getting faster can be followed by a week of slower runs.
Meanwhile, I work out my feelings about getting older. I can get so mad at my younger self! She didn’t work so hard as I do now, and her race strategy was mostly vibes, and yet I can’t compete with her. Probably I shouldn’t. Probably I should just forget about her. Mostly I do my best to focus on what I want to achieve as the person I am now.
Last year, first during my peak mileage while training for the Brooklyn Half Marathon and later during my peak mileage while training for the New York City Marathon, I discovered just how joyful running can be. An ordinary training run felt amazing, as though my limbs and heart were in sync with the entire universe. I’ve barely started training for the Brooklyn Half this year, and already I find myself tapping into that joy. I often tell people that the changes wrought by a training plan are magic. I know that these changes can be explained by science—more mitochondria and capillaries, etcetera. But right now, it feels like magic.
Written by: Rachael Nevins (she/her)
Photo by: Rachael Nevins
Produced by: Rachael DePalma (she/her)
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