Three years ago I ran the Seattle rock n roll marathon and a friend of mine who was at the finish line with her husband, said that as they cheered me on her husband remarked to her "she looks like she still has more left in her."
That has always bothered me-- the knowledge that I could have given more.
I have always held back a little-- afraid of the hurt that comes from really trying and really pushing the extent of my boundaries. I like to play it safe and keep things comfortable. And I have ran many respectable and comfortable marathons-- to the point where it is no longer a challenge.
But earlier this summer, the seed of an idea planted itself in my brain....
what if?
what if I tried?
what if I pushed myself just a little farther, a little harder, a little more than I ever have?
what could I accomplish?
So one day I tried. I ran as fast as I could for as long as I could. I ran 6 miles at a 7:30 pace.
And then I called emailed a friend who has run the Boston marathon and I told him "I want to try...what do I need to do?"
He put me on a plan that involved running 5 days a week (I had previously only ran 3 days a week). It meant tempo runs, hill climbs, speed drills and many, many long runs. It meant waking up at 5:00 on some days. It meant a certain amount of pain and soreness where there had been none before.
And it meant I would need to be fast (well, faster).
To qualify for the Boston marathon, I need to run 26.2 miles in 3:35. That works out to be a consistent 8.12 mile.
I want to run it in 3:30. That is an 8:00 mile.
And I have decided to do it. I know I can. I know it will hurt. I know it will be a race like no other race I have ever run. But for the first time, I am going to lay everything out there and run the race of my life. I would rather fly from the start and collapse at mile 20 knowing I had given everything, than comfortably finish one more race.
This weekend will be the 10th anniversary of my first marathon, in the city where I grew up and ran my first marathon. My family will be at the finish line. My body is ready after 9 months of training. I may never be in this place in my life again. The time is now.
This is what I am taking with me:
The worlds ugliest and most beautiful feet which have carried me thousands of punishing miles.
My racing tank! A few months ago, Benjamin got the age where he didn't want to be carried anymore. He would simply say "I have to run!" and then he would wriggle out of my arms and run after Anna. That is when I knew he was truly my son. I feel the same way. I have to run.
The real troopers are the family members who sacrificed our family mornings so I could carry on with my running.
And my running buddy lent me her Boston charms! She is hoping to PR on Saturday. She said that after I qualify, it will give her even more luck for next year when she makes her own run for Boston.
See you at the finish line!
No comments:
Post a Comment