Posts Tagged ‘marathon’

No, I’m not jumping ahead yet. In the middle of a relatively bad summer of training, I needed a boost. No, tonight’s meal at Cheeburger Cheeburger didn’t count. The boost comes with thinking about my next — and second ever — marathon. I’ve been wanting to do another marathon, but I just haven’t found the time to commit to it, nor have I found the one I want to do (or maybe I’ve just run out of excuses).

Today on Twitter, BRP26pt2 started following me — that’s the Blue Ridge Parkway Marathon. There’s really not much to tell about it right now, except that there’s a blog entry about it here and they’re on Twitter. I’m not committing to it yet, but the timing of it would be perfect. It’s late spring and it comes about a month and a half after the Shamrock Half that I’ll likely do again. The Parkway is a bonus — I grew up near the Blue Ridge Parkway in Bedford, so it would be somewhat of a homecoming. Besides the Virginia Ten Miler that I’d love to do again, there are very few long-distance races in that area that interest me.

So for now, we’ll leave it at this … it’s a big maybe, but it’s the biggest maybe to come along in some time.

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I think I’m pretty much over what was bugging me last week, except I had an awful meal tonight. It’s a WTF kind of meal. Like, why did I do that? Perhaps I did it to wake me up and set me straight for August. It’s kind of a weird thought process — eat what I shouldn’t eat just to remind me how bad it feels.

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Speaking of last week, even though the whole week was bad, I had a good long run of 7 miles on Saturday. I’m right where I want to be with my long runs, but my overall mileage is down from what I’d like. I think maybe I’m being hard on myself since it’s the summer, but at the same time I’m staying injury free, and I can’t really ask for more than that.

I’ve been reading a lot today about Boston and the marathon. I’ve only been to Boston once in my life. It was two falls ago — a gorgeious time to be there. My wife and I did one of the hop-on hop-off trolley tours — a great way to see that city. I’ve also been a longtime Boston Celtics fan. My mom can back me up on that one. I’m not on any kind of bandwagon just because of this year’s NBA season. I grew up a big Larry Bird fan. From Celtics hats to a Bird poster to a Bird comic book, I loved the Cs, and always liked hearing about Boston. (I’ve never been a Patriots fan, though…)

As far as ever running the Boston Marathon, that’s a dream that’ll likely just stay a dream. For those who are working on that goal right now for Boston ’09, I wish you the best in your running goals this year.

This blog started as something to hold me accountable for the Richmond Marathon. What started as a journey to just another race turned into a story of so much more. Just two days after running 26.2 miles, I feel like I can really do anything I set my mind to … except walking down stairs!

This is my 101st post. I couldn’t have timed it better by having 100 posts ending with the marathon report. Number 101 is like a starting over number … a what’s next type of thing. Back in April when I started this blog, I thought I knew so much about running and was treating the marathon the same way I had approached all other races. But a marathon the first time around is about pushing your limits and taking your body to the edge. It tests you just as much mentally as it does physically. It makes you think about everything you’ve ever done in your life — if you’re a person who has regretted things along the way, it turns you into a no regrets type of person. It puts the “life’s too short” cliche into reality. Life is too short to waste time on a lot of things. Life is too short to have regrets.

Who knows why it takes training and running a marathon for the first time to realize these things, but it just does. Life is like a marathon — there are ups and downs, fast times and slow times, times where you feel the best you’ve ever felt and times you question your own sanity. And it all works out in the end.

By sitting at home today and getting rest, and unable to do much since I can’t walk normal, I keep asking myself, “What’s next?” I don’t like the term “off season” — once you’re hooked, there’s downtime, where training continues in a lesser way. My approach to 2007 was: run the Shamrock Half Marathon and see how I feel. Well, I ran it, then was marathon bound. All races in between were for training. And that’s the biggest thing that’s changed about me this year — focus on the big event, but keep running races for speed training and running with large groups of people.

Before I worry about 2008 besides the Shamrock again, I have a goal to meet before Dec. 31 this year — hitting 1,000 miles for the year. It wasn’t a goal I had until recently, but it’ll be a great way to close out the year. I’m at 924.3 now and will resume that journey (slowly) on Saturday or Sunday. After I hit 1,000 miles, I’ll fill you in on the rest of 2008.

I can now say what many people never say in their lives - I am a marathoner. Even if I never do one again, I am a marathoner. Yesterday was truly an unbelievable experience. From the start to the numbness near the end, I took it all in.

The weather before the race was nice and cool. It wasn’t as cold as I thought it would be, but cold enough to start with gloves and a thin long-sleeve shirt underneath my Livestrong shirt. I planned to toss those aside when I would see my wife and family and my friend Jon at the party zones creatively set up by the Richmond Sports Backers. After I walked around a bit with everybody, I said my goodbyes and then did a little more walking around, just amazed at the thousands of people getting ready to do this. Then, fortunately, I saw a familiar face — I knew my old friend Travis (in the photo below), who I used to play basketball with, was running, but I hadn’t gotten in touch with him. But among the sea of people, there he was along with a guy he had been training with. Their goal times were between 4-4:30, so it was perfect to run this race with them.

The start of the race was odd — it just started. The speakers weren’t loud enough where we were to hear the national anthem or the gun to start the race. We were suddenly walking forward. No one was pushing or in a rush, but as soon as we hit the start line, the running began. It was nice having someone to run with — we were basically chatting about old times in Bedford and catching up on other things in life. We hit the first mile in 9:15. Everything felt great — the weather was still good and no one around us was running too hard or too slow it seemed. We hit the next two miles just under 9 minutes and kept getting that strong urge to pee. I knew I would have to at some point, but I was hoping to wait until closer to half way. But this couldn’t wait.

About half way between mile 3 and 4 I sped up to get to the port-a-potties and hope that I’d time it out where Travis and his friend would go by as I finished. It was perfect, although I ended up peeing next to the port-a-potty along with about half a dozen other guys. After a quick mile of 8:33 thanks to having to pee, we maintained a good pace by hitting the next miles at 9:16 and 9 minutes. Between miles 6 and 7 were downhill and clocked in at 8:42. I managed to take off my gloves, stuff them in my pocket, then take off the long-sleeved shirt without missing a beat. I then held onto my gloves and shirt until I spotted my group at the party zone. I had an easy hand-off of my clothes to Jon. And to my surprise, my group had made some signs — I should have never mentioned running like a gazelle last week.

The next mile made its way up a small hill to the Huguenot Bridge — the first uphill of the race and everyone stopped talking until we were crossing the bridge. It was the first chance to see the James River, and on an overcast, slightly foggy morning, it was a very awesome view. After crossing the bridge, the course went down Riverside Drive to run alongside the mighty James. It was like running on a back country road — so nice and peaceful, and the miles were just going by so quickly it seemed. Miles 8, 9 and 10 were: 9:15, 8:58, 9:20. It was a comfortable pace — basically about the same as my training pace on normal runs.

After we hit the double digits and strolled through a neighborhood and got to Forest Hill Avenue, I was wishing I had my gloves back. My hands were cold. The sun came out oh so briefly somewhere along there, but the weather, overall, was still good. When we hit the double digits, I was hoping my family made it to the next party zone at mile 12.9 so I could exchange hats. Even though I wasn’t sweating all that much, getting something drier on my head was going to be welcome. Miles 11 and 12 were in 9:04 and 9:15.

In previous races I’ve done, I rarely pay attention to the crowds, but not for this race. Everyone seemed more genuine in their support for this event. This wasn’t a race — it was an experience, and I think for many spectators it was an experience, too, rather than usual clapping and shouting “Go runners!” So, as I was in awe of the spectators, I saw my group at the next party zone from at least 50 yards away. I stopped briefly to make sure the exchange went easily. To my surprise my sister, brother-in-law and dad had made it to this stop as well. I hit mile 13 in 9:22, and hit the half-way point just under 2 hours chip time.

This whole time I had not gotten caught up in my time or trying to figure everything out with finishing at a certain time. My #1 goal was to finish and somewhere in the 4 hour range would be all the better. But it was the half-way point when I started hitting distances in a race that I hadn’t done before (that 30k just doesn’t count in my books), I realized what an experience this was turning into. This wasn’t like a 5k or the half marathon where I was worried about goal times — this was becoming a life-changing day, on top of the already life-changing training. That all being said, at halfway, I briefly thought that if I kept that pace I’d be under 4 hours, but I pushed those thoughts aside knowing that this wasn’t a race against time.

After a 9:14 mile to mile 14, I began to pull away from Travis. Conversations had pretty much stopped anyway, as the mental part of the marathon started to take over. At mile 14, I grabbed two Clif gels that were being handed out. I chewed one (I really don’t like Clif gels, but they seem to work the best) and put the other in my pocket that I took a few miles later. Up to this point I had taken two PowerBar gels at mile 2, and somewhere around mile 8 or 9. Plus I had taken an Advil at the same time of the second gel.

I did mile 15 in 9:30 when the weather started to change. Coming across the bridge back into the city, the wind was in my face. Wind? That wasn’t in the forecast, but sure enough that wind kept going and going and wasn’t in our backs for the rest of the race. It was always coming from the side or directly in our face. Between miles 15 and 16 seemed so long. Was this bridge ever going to end!! It was a great view — the James to the left, the city skyline to the right. The sun was trying to poke through again, making for some cool rays of sunshine. But along the never-ending bridge, there were no spectators, just cars whizzing by, with a few occasionally honking their horns. Surprisingly when I hit mile 16, I was just under 9:30 for the mile. That was the longest 9-plus minutes of running I had ever done.

The next few miles were nice because I was in familiar territory running by VCU and my office. As I hit mile 19, I could tell I was slowing, but everything seemed to be in check. (Mile 17-19 were 9:37, 9:46, 9:49.) My feet were hurting just a bit, but nothing major. And just before mile 20 was a hill — I dreaded that hill. It was at this point I began to see people stopping to stretch, or just flat out walk up the hill. I had come that far that I was not going to walk until the next water stop. I hit mile 20 in 10:30, then slowly walked through the water stop. Even though I had gotten lots of water or Powerade at every stop, and I was feeling great as far as thirst went, I took this water stop for all it was worth. Two cups of water and a cup of Powerade to go, please. I walked about another 100 yards taking every drop of fluid in those cups. About 10 other people were doing the same thing. And this is the point that everybody talks about — after mile 20.

Every block or so, at least one person was stretching or rubbing their legs. It was at this point, the numbness started in my legs. Nothing hurt really, except my feet just a bit. It was at this point when I started thinking about everything in my life, looking for things to push me the final few miles. My feet were hurting — my grandmother who passed away earlier this year always complained about her feet. Was this her way to keep me going? That’s what I thought.

With the walk break for the water, I hit mile 21 in 11:14. I thought it would be 15 minutes. I wasn’t looking at my watch except at the mile markers. I didn’t want to know my pace at this point. I felt like I was pushing myself, except I hit mile 22 in 10:18. I hadn’t ran a training run that slow since I was running the hills in Lynchburg. But I kept running, not looking too hard at the people stretching. I didn’t want my mind to force my legs into a cramp. I don’t remember if it was mile 22 or 23, but I walked through another water stop, grabbing two cups of water and a Powerade. I also kept cursing the wind. Miles 23 and 24 were in 10:19 and 10:17.

Less than a 5k to go, I was telling myself. I’ve ran plenty of 5ks, I can push myself through this. I had all kinds of thoughts running through my head. I thought a lot about my late Uncle John and wondered what he would’ve thought of this. It was kind of eerie, but a single ray of sunshine was poking through the clouds when I was thinking about him. It was proving the point to me that running a marathon for the first time wasn’t about what the final time was, but about this experience of putting your body through something amazing. It’s just so hard to describe.

I was trying to go faster, but I hit mile 25 in 10:40. What!?!? I was pushing myself, but I just wasn’t going faster. By this time, the numbing had spread to my arms and hands and I was freezing. Between miles 23 and 25, I was running with arms to the side, moving them up and down and squeezing my hands trying to get rid of this numbing feeling. It was like someone else was inside me doing the running, but it was my mind carrying the body along. You hear how much running is a mental thing — the final 6 miles of a marathon is 90 percent mental.

When I hit mile 25, I knew it was a little more than a mile, with much of it downhill. “It’s all downhill from here,” is what the spectators were saying. It’s easy for them to say. But as I rounded the final turn, I started seeing people who had already finished and they were showing their support for us who were finishing an hour after them. So truly the marathon does end! The final mile they kept saying … I can run faster for the final mile can’t I? Sure, I was flying, or so I thought, going down that hill. Mile 26 was 11:04. At this point, I knew I had less than a lap around a track and I wasn’t going to stop now. The last .2 miles, I managed an 8:13 pace, so yes, finally, my body was doing what my mind asked it to do.

At mile 25, I knew I wanted to beat 4:15. Finishing within 15 minutes of my ideal time would be great after 26.2 miles. I managed to have a chip time of just under 4:13. As I cross the finish line, there was no standard arms-in-the-air celebration. I think I tried, but seriously, my arms were numb from the race and the coldness. After I crossed, I just stopped for about 30 seconds and thought, I did it. I really did it. I thought maybe I’d cry, but I just didn’t have the energy to. On my first step after stopping, I was like, I can walk! I got a Mylar blanket, which immediately helped the cold feeling. I got the chip snapped off my foot — I couldn’t even lift my right leg to help out the guy cutting them off.

I grabbed my finisher’s medal, and looked back for a second — I really did it, I kept thinking. After getting the medal, I opted to skip the photo op with the SunTrust logos all over the place. I wanted to talk … or at least see a familiar face. It had been a couple of hours of silence, except for a few comments with other runners along the way. I quickly saw my wife and my dad and they asked how it was. I didn’t have an answer. I was hungry … and cold.

The unfriendliest part of America’s Friendliest Marathon is after the race. You have to walk downhill to get some food. I got a slice of pizza, a banana and a Powerade, then walked back up the hill. I warmed up briefly in the host hotel lobby, and I was ready to go home. I still didn’t know what to say about my experience. I briefly looked for Travis afterward, and for fellow blogger Jason, but it was just too cold and windy to stick around. I think most people around there felt the same way.

So, while I could still walk reasonably well, I took a shower while my wife ordered pizza for my mom and stepdad and Jon (and me). I came downstairs and rolled The Stick over my legs. I began telling a few stories about my experience, but it was still hard to put into words. More than 24 hours later, it’s still hard to come up with the proper words as to what it meant to me and what it was like. The physical parts are easy — I can barely walk. I slept downstairs just because I didn’t want to walk down them early this morning. My elbows are actually sore — after running for 4 hours, I guess it makes sense. I actually am less sore than I thought I would be, but it’s still not pleasant. Last night I would sleep for a couple hours, wake up, physically pick my legs up and put them in a different position and repeat 2 hours later.

But as far as what this does to me mentally … it’ll take a while to put into words. I want to again thank everyone for their support these past few months, and for coming out yesterday. It means so much to me.

So, now what? At one point this summer, I swore off training for a marathon again. But that was when it was 90 degrees and had a horrible long run. Training is the hard part — the experience of the marathon is priceless. It’s a time commitment that I don’t have right now or next summer. I miss my weekends, and I have a house that I’d like to spend time on next summer. I really like half marathons from a racing standpoint, and that’s what I’m focusing on next in March. Like I said last year at this time, any decision on a marathon is going to have to wait.

I’ll take this PR and this experience for all its worth. If I never do another one, I have absolutely no regrets on what has happened in the past few months and yesterday. If I could do yesterday all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing (except for keeping my gloves). I can’t ask for anything better than this feeling I have right now. I am a marathoner.

4:12:51. What an experience. I’ll give a full race report soon, but I wanted to get my time on here. And after 26.2 miles, it’s definitely not about the time. Those who have done this probably know what I’m talking about. For now there is pizza to be eaten, beer to drink and … more beer to drink. Maybe I’ll catch a nap in between the beers. It’s time to enjoy myself and to celebrate.

So this is what the day before a marathon feels like? I can’t get back to sleep, so I decided to get up and stop rolling in the bed. I’m not really nervous — I’m just ready for it to be race day. It feels like the few theatrical productions I’ve been a part of — I know my lines, but I just haven’t performed in front of an audience yet. The cast: 5,000 other people, and we’re probably all thinking the same thing this morning.

Anyway, I went to the race expo yesterday and quickly dashed away $100. I finally bought “The Stick.” I’ve been wanting one for a while, but it’s hard to track down in stores and it’s generally more expensive online. When I got home I immediately rolled out all the knots in my body. I was surprised at how tight my legs actually were. I also bought a Christmas ornament with “26.2″ written on it, and I finally bought a couple of racing stickers — one with “13.1″ and other other with “26.2″ on it. I purchased a funny running shirt related to running with my dog, and I bought a yellow hat that reads “Running is cheaper than therapy.” It’ll match my yellow shirt well. I’m still trying to figure out if I actually like yellow …

I must say I was a bit disappointed in the crammed feeling of the layout at the expo. If I wasn’t quickly moving along, I was in somebody’s way. I can only image what today or tomorrow morning will be like. If organizers want to continue to grow the numbers, they’ll have to find a bigger place for the expo, or utilize the Omni’s space better. Think about it — 5,000 marathoners, 6,000 8k runners, 1,000 children running the kids race and dozens of expo workers/volunteers alongside hotel workers. Many of those people bring at least one other person, so you’re talking about at least 25,000 people filtering through small spaces in a short time, except for there being no one at the Times-Dispatch booth.

The weather is still looking nice and cool for tomorrow. I’ll probably be starting with gloves I nearly wore out last year and likely tossing them to the side a few miles in. So there’s another $20 or so I’ll have to shell out again soon for running. The few miles I’ve ran this week have certainly helped me adjust to the drastic weather change and it’ll make running this winter seem a little better than last year.

Before I leave, I just wanted to say a quick thanks to everyone for their support since I started this blog in April. From the comments to the emails to those I know personally who talk to me about running, I greatly appreciate you being there for me. After tomorrow, I’m not sure what’ll happen with my postings. With this post, I’ve started bolding key words. Not sure why… just trying something new. Who knows if it’ll last. My subtitle will have to change and I’m sure for a few weeks I won’t be 100 percent focused on running. I’m hoping for a few short races before March’s half marathon, but I’ll discuss all that later. If you feel compelled to say “good luck,” I won’t yell at you. I’ll know that you really mean “have a great race.”

It seems all too often I read about people who are in their taper weeks and they just want to run more. It’s something missing in their lives by cutting several miles from their weeks after running so much in the few months before.

After one week of cutting back, I am more than pleased with running less and giving my body a much needed rest. By the end of this week, I have felt stronger and my pace has actually gotten faster with me feeling as if I was putting less effort into it. Perhaps it’s because there’s less pressure to actually get the miles in. It’s time to rest and take it easy if something hurts, not to log miles just for the sake of logging miles. I also ran without my iPod all week, which led me to wondering if my music was dictating my pace too much. I think I’ll continue to run without music in these last two weeks to better prepare myself for race day. I’m a believer that iPods shouldn’t be allowed in races (that’s another post for some other time down the road), so I want to make sure I’m not addicted to the tunes. If you’re hooked and think you can’t run without music, I’d suggest taking off the earphones — the sounds at this time of the year deserve to be heard … as well as listening to yourself breathe.

Today I had my last double-digit run before the marathon and my knee hurt a very little bit toward the end, so I cut it short. No need to go another two miles just because that’s what I wrote down to do this week. Why risk hurting myself now when the marathon is less than two weeks away? That’s the point of this taper.

All week long I’ve gotten 8-9 hours of sleep every night instead of the usual 7-8. Last night was close to 10. It’s been solid sleep, too. Pretty soon I’ll start proclaiming that marathon training can cure insomnia and other sleeping disorders. Ambien? Don’t waste your money. Several miles a day is the natural way to go.

This week will be about the same through the week as this week, with a long run back in the single digits. Eight miles is going to seem like nothing next week, and I’m really looking forward to it.

I think in yesterday’s post I was blaming myself for things beyond my control. I was mad for yesterday’s run not feeling like the majority of my runs have in the past few months. Plus I was tired … and I think that was my biggest issue of all. Yesterday evening, I took a nap for about an hour. Then last night I slept for about 10 hours. Mark this down as a lesson learned without having to hurt myself — had I kept going yesterday, who knows what would have happened.

So today around 5 p.m., my wife and I headed to a nearby park with our dog (that’s him in the photo!). Instead of the short walk before my run, I took a longer walk to get warmed up — probably a little more than a mile. Then, the run. I started slow just to make sure my knees weren’t turning old on me. Two miles in, things were fine. I kept the first four miles or so off road on the relatively flat trails. Half way through I was feeling great. No pains, no issues with the late-day still-too-hot-for-October weather … my only complaint would be that my iPod was enjoying playing Bush songs I’ve already heard this week. I ended up running 10 miles in 10 seconds less than 1:30. Compare that to yesterday’s first 10 that I did in 1:37, plus another 9:30 pace mile. For the weekend, I did 21 miles. Although my 20 miler didn’t come in one attempt, I did accomplish a first in my running career — two double digit runs in consecutive days. Also this weekend, I passed 100 miles for the month, which is about 20 more than where I was at this point last month. While I was feeling down yesterday, I’m feeling much better tonight. It’s funny what a good night’s sleep can do for the body.

So, now what? It’s time for the taper. A lot of people have a lot to say about tapering — when doing a Google search for tapering and running, 2 million items come up. Nobody is right; nobody is wrong, either. For people like me, running in that 30-40 miles per week range, it seems there’s not much of a need to drastically cut back until the week of, but some cutting back needs to happen. Then there’s the ton of people who run 40-60 miles a week … then you have the 100-plus miles a week runner.

There are too many different types of runners out there to develop a perfect plan and not enough research for so-called experts to really know what is right. I have now had five consecutive 30-plus mile weeks since my mid-September move. Based on what I’ve read, what I’ve been told and what I’ve done with the two shorter races I’ve trained for, next week’s plan is 29 miles with a long run of 14. I may alter some things during the week and shorten the long run just a bit, but I still plan to be in the double digits. The following week, my target mileage is 24 miles, with my long run being 8 miles. And the week of the marathon? I’ll wait and see how I feel, but basically I’m planning 10 miles or less.

I’m excited that taper time is here and I can use some reasonable excuses now to rest up. There have been some mornings that I just don’t feel like dragging myself out of bed, but I do it anyway. Now I won’t feel so bad if I sleep just a tad longer and run a mile less. There’s a lot of reflecting I’d love to do, but now is still not the time. It is not time too look at how far I’ve come since the spring. There’s a marathon to focus on — I haven’t accomplished anything until I cross the finish line.

When I have found success in things, I have always found it hard to put into words. The same can be said when things don’t go my way.

Today’s planned 20-mile run simply didn’t go like it should have. Things started off pretty well and by mile 5 things were going very smoothly. It was nice and cool and my pace was very, very comfortable. I stopped around mile 8 to refill my water and when I restarted things just didn’t feel right. My knees (yes, that’s plural) started hurting a bit. I figured I’d get to mile 10, then walk a little bit and see how things were going. So I walked for about 5 minutes at mile 10, then started running again. Things felt OK for about half a mile, then my knees started hurting again. I finished off a mile, all the while thinking of a game plan to attempt to get mileage in this weekend. The pain wasn’t very intense — just kind of annoying. But annoying enough to make me not push myself. With three weeks to go, now is not the weekend to hurt myself and not be able to run at all. It didn’t feel anything like my pain from last summer — that was killer. This was like “I’m tired don’t screw with me today.” I came home and iced both knees and now a few hours later things feel OK.

So what now? First off, my No. 1 goal coming into marathon training was to not hurt myself. I have three weeks to get rested up, put in some quality miles and go out and finish my first ever 26.2 mile event. As for this weekend, I’m giving myself a 36-hour break and will head out tomorrow evening for an attempt at 10 miles or so. That may be a test as to whether this is fatigue or whether something else is going on. I feel OK and feel like going out and running right now. But I’m not stupid (well…) and I don’t want to ruin the rest of my running career. I’ve said before that I wasn’t making marathon plans until after this one was over, but you may take a hint from my future plans with me signing up for the Shamrock Half Marathon in March. Much more on that after Nov. 10.

It’s tough to hold my head up after a morning like this, but I think maybe my body was ready for the taper before my mind was. There’s still a lot of weekend left and a lot of running to do — it’s just the 20 miler isn’t happening all at once.

After dealing with a move in September, it really seems hard to believe that this is the last “big” week with training for the Richmond Marathon. Tapering can’t come soon enough. This week while running my body is having a conversation with me.

Right foot: “Really, another mile to go? But I need a break.”
Me: “So what pal, you’re sticking with me.”

Left knee: “OK buddy, I’m hurting, I know you feel me. But if you insist, I have a good 20 mile run in me on Saturday.”
Me: “Thanks! Yes, I feel your pain, but talk to the right knee about that. Now ’06 was pain. This my friend, is nothing. Thanks for sticking it out with me.”

Lungs: “Can’t breathe. Too much. It’s October and it’s still hot air coming in. What happened to temperatures in the 40s like the other day.”
Me: “I can’t agree more. I’m thinking Mother Nature is waiting until we cut back the miles to get super nice, and then we won’t be going very far.”

My ears: “C’mon you SOB. How many times do I have to hear Garth Brooks’ ‘Callin’ Baton Rouge?’”
Me: “Look, this song gets me going just ask much as any O.A.R. or Dave Matthews Band song, so shut up. And don’t call me an SOB.”

Back: “You’re almost 30 and I’ve never hurt before … don’t let me start now.”
Me: “Remember that 30k? You were hurting then. Just hang with me through this week and we’ll survive the marathon.”

After all these miles, my legs, lungs and brain are ready to cut back after Saturday. While next week will still be “long” by my standards from just a few months ago, I’m looking forward to easing up on the distance. Many people talk about feeling like tapering isn’t working or that they don’t want to ease up. After all these long runs with distances I’ve never hit until now, I’m more than happy to cut back. I’m listening to my body, and it’s telling me that after Saturday it wants to prepare itself for Nov. 10.