In marathon training, the 20-miler looms large. Even the past few races I've done, following the Run Less, Run Faster plans that have five 20-milers per training cycle, where going out and running a 20 almost becomes the norm - even then, I still got a little nervous during the week leading up to it, and I still felt incredibly accomplished and badass when I completed it.
So this year, with the amount of time I had to take off, and the incredible uncertainty about whether I'd ever get back up to double digits - never mind 20 miles - it was really looming large, but more as a question mark than a nerve-wracking task to accomplish.
And truthfully - I kind of craved that feeling of utter exhaustion, and that feeling of not wanting to take one. more. step. but pushing through anyway. I missed it, and I spent a long time hoping I'd get to experience it again soon.
Today was the day. After a successful 15-miler two weeks ago, and a great half-marathon last weekend, I was thinking I'd go for 18 this weekend. But then I checked the calendar and realized that if I ran 20 this week, I could drop back down to 15 next week, and squeeze in one more 20 the following week before tapering down. And really - how much of a difference is there between 18 and 20?
Let me stop here and say that I would never ever recommend that someone come back quite this aggressively from an injury layoff. If it wasn't Boston, I wouldn't be doing this. I'd be keeping my long runs in the neighborhood of 13 miles, and would be very happy with that. Without an incredibly important race on the horizon, I'd play it much safer.
But I'm pushing my luck a little bit right now, because it is Boston. And because I was there last year, making it a million times more important for me to be there again this year. So yes, I'm well aware that I'm setting a very poor example - especially given that I'm a coach, and I absolutely know better - but sometimes, you have to follow your heart, and as long as my body cooperates, that's what I'm going to do.
So I decided to try for the 20 today, with the knowledge that I could cut it short if need be.
After doing nearly all of my Boston training solo last year, it's been a real treat to do most of my long runs with my friends this year. Last year was all about paces and tempos and intervals and serious focus - and it paid off, and I'm glad I did it.
But I'm also glad this year is different. This year is about getting in the miles needed to prepare me to cover the distance. Period. I have thrown in a few tempo-ish runs the past couple of weeks, and I was going to try to do some faster miles at the end of today's run, but I re-thought that.
I realized that I've asked an awful lot of my body these past 6 or 7 weeks, and it has thus far responded very favorably, so I think I need to be reasonable about how much further I push it, because if I try to add everything (speed AND distance) back in at once, it just might decide it's had enough and stage a little rebellion, and that's something I cannot afford right now.
So today was a comfortable (mostly) 9:00 overall pace. There were some faster miles in there, and there were some slower miles in there, and there was a lot of wind, and there were much colder temperatures than one would expect at the end of March.
But we got it done.
As race day gets closer and closer, the marathon is in the news so much more. And the one-year anniversary of last year's race is right around the corner. And I'm finding myself tearful almost every time I think about it.
As the date gets closer and I get back to some actual training and it all seems so much more real, the stories and the reminders bring all the emotions flooding back stronger than ever. I suppose that's not surprising at all, but it has been a little tough. I find myself wondering how I'm going to hold it together when I step up to that starting line, and how I'm going to not cry just being back in the city of Boston.
I know having my friends with me will help. It will help remind me that this is, first and foremost, a celebration - of the incredible strength, spirit, and courage of runners and of the city of Boston. I think tears are inevitable, but I think they'll be a mix of both sad and happy tears.
The Boston Marathon will never be quite the same again, but I firmly believe that it will just keep getting better and better - and I can't wait to be one of the runners out there taking our marathon back.
I get goosebumps when I think about that feeling, and about being at that spot again - the finish line in sight - knowing you're about to cross it. And I'm also overcome with such tremendous sadness, thinking about what that spot turned into just a short while after I crossed it.
But at the same time, I'm filled with such a sense of hope. And that hope is what I'm going to try to concentrate on as I run those miles this year. Because that's what keeps us going, and that's what this year is all about.
35 days.
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