I Faded During My First Two Races. This Simple Workout Helped Me Finish the Next One Strong—and Set a PR.

In July of 2017, I ran the Chicago Rock’n’Roll Half Marathon. I had run track and cross country in high school, so I was familiar with racing short distances, but I was new to anything in the double digits. Generally speaking, it was a great race. All along the route, bands played with the urban backdrop of Chicago behind them. Being it my first half marathon, I was proud to simply finish.

But I also couldn’t help noticing my pace dropping with each mile marker. By mile 6, heading down Michigan Avenue, the physical exhaustion started to catch up to me. I definitely let the energy of the race push my pace, which I then couldn’t hold. As I approached mile 12, and the course turned onto Columbus Drive toward the finish line, my legs were jelly. In the summer heat, with sweat pouring down my body, I pushed through and finished—but it wasn’t pretty.

I had a similar experience at the 2018 Lakefront 10 Miler in Chicago, and after that race, not wanting to go through the same experience again, I started looking for strategies to finish my future races stronger.

I’ve searched the internet for advice on how to pace races and not get steered by other runners or the atmosphere—I needed to find a way to handle sudden bursts of speed in the middle of my runs.

The obvious answer was interval training, but I knew I needed something less structured that I could implement on an as-needed basis and in ways that accounted for the unpredictability of a race day where you have to surge past competitors or tackle sudden hills. Plus I’d done a bunch of them while on the track and cross country team, and I wanted to have more fun with my training. That’s when I came across fartleks, a “speed play,” which mixes spontaneous fast surges with recovery jogs, and helps build physical endurance and mental resilience.

Once a week, I’d practice during my run: Every so often, I’d choose a landmark such as a house or a tree and sprint to it, then return to my regular pace. At the end of my workout, I’d play “Edge” by Rezz and let the thick, heavy bass pulse through my headphones. I’d continue picking up pace at certain parts of the song until the last beat.

Especially toward the end of my workout, suddenly picking up speed felt hard, but the more I practiced it, the easier it became. And so I decided to put my training to the test at my next race, the 2019 Lakefront 10 Miler in Chicago.

It was a typical early spring morning in Chicago, cold and brisk at first and getting warmer as the morning progressed. I saw my breath in the morning air, but the temperature would be in the 50s by the time I was in the midst of the race.

By mile 4, I decided to weave through the crowds of runners with some fartleks: after every mile marker, I searched for an object ahead of me to lock in on. First I found a tree a few hundred feet away; at the next one, a bench about twice as far ahead as the tree, and sprinted toward it before easing back into my regular pace. By mile 8, I locked in on catching up to a runner ahead of me. At this part of the race, I was feeling it in my legs, but I knew from training that I can handle multiple surges and recover from them—that confidence allowed me to keep pushing on tired legs.

The most brutal moment was just ahead, climbing up and down Cricket Hill. I made sure to push through the uphill and gain speed on the downhill. The last quarter mile ended at the track, and I used whatever energy I had left to carry me across the finish line, knowing my legs can take it.

It worked: I earned a 4-minute PR and felt great. In fact, I felt so great that I used the same strategy later that year during the Chicago Marathon (and many other races since).

Fartlek in training gives me confidence in surging and recovering, while also teaching me that I can push on tired legs. In races, the approach gives me smaller, manageable goals throughout, making the distance feel less overwhelming mentally and helping me stay focused when I begin to feel tired—while also dealing with any unexpected pace changes.

My first marathon? It felt great!