Seeking a better country...

After a long afternoon helping the neighbor rip out bushes, then doing some paid work, Jack and I left just before dark on what promised to be a very easy paced run.  That boy never stops talking.  It cracks me up that he quotes Wallace and Gromit shorts.  "Everyone knows the moon is made of cheese."

The yard work has me hurting.

Mile repeats.  The first two were good, after that, the wheels fell off.  That's what you get for trying to hit 6's with 1 minute recovery.

Better than seven 8-9 minute miles pushing a jogging stroller in terms of training, though.

Bill delivery.  4 bucks worth of stamps, so now I can waste money on lunch at Smashburger.  

Poor Jack climbed out of the stroller to visit, then when he got back in, it tipped over backward.  He cried pretty loud.  47 seconds later, no more tears.  I wish all problems were so easily solved.

8:30 pm  Final workout, 75 minutes running at marathon pace.

The challenge was, do it on the flat ground of Legacy trail.  In the end, I held it together.  The effort level was higher than my typical runs, but it wasn't through the roof.  Ideally, this pace would feel like an 85% effort.  Tonight it was more like 87 or 88%.  

The downhill miles will be comparitively much easier.  I hope I've done enough to make it to the out and back portion on Wasatch with enough left that I can stay close to 7:15 pace for those 7-8 flat miles.  If I can keep those under 7:45, it will be a good thing.

So not much running to do this week until Saturday.  5 on Monday, 3-4 on Wednesday.  I don't know what makes sense for a week before, but I don't want anything hurting at the start line.  Right now my neck is hurting from a Saturday trip to Lagoon; whiplash on the bumper cars and wild mouse.   Better a sore neck than a sore back,  I guess.

5 after dark.  Tami was supposed to come, but she didn't feel well.  Easy pace.

6 am.  Dinosaur park and back.  Easy pace, stewing about the marathon.

Shoes...should I wear the 10.5 or 11?

Cold start...it'll be in the low 40's at Brighton, rising to 65 by my anticipated finish.   I'm concerned about keeping warm, and my wardrobe choices until things warm up a bit.  Gloves definitely.  I want to end up in a tank top, but to start off, that seems too cold.

Race nutrition...I'm going with fruit strips.  Gels make me pukey, and I've had good luck with these on lots of runs this summer.  Only 40 calories per strip, and they are more trouble than gels, but needing to puke for half of a race is also inconvenient.  My son is going to meet me at the mouth of the canyon with Mtn Dew, so that'll supply some calories and caffeine at mile 15 and 22.5.  

Eager and anxious.  

Easy miles with Jack along for the ride.  Turns out touching is not Jack's love language.  At one point, I reached up to tousle his hair.  He growled at me, "Stop scratching me and petting me!!"

Marathon #11

Last year I ran a very poorly executed race in Huntsville.  With a first half/second half split of 1:26/1:52, I finished in 3:18, and missed BQ on a day when I could have readily qualified if I had run smarter.  The good news was one of my oldest friends, Nate, did qualify.  That left me lacking a Q-time to join him in Boston in 2015.

So I put a half-baked effort into UVM this June.  But content to do only 85% of the necessary training, I ended up disappointed with a marathon PW  (personal worst).

Which set  the stage for Big Cottonwood.  After UVM, I vowed I wouldn't let another race get away like that.  I wasn't going to toe the line unprepared, and not give myself a legitimate shot at a decent time.  I worked  harder over the summer, and didn't sell the long runs short.  I approached this race with a high level of confidence, still knowing that it's a marathon, and any number of things can happen to upset the best laid plans and preparations.

My A-goal was 3:10.  My backup goal was 3:13.  I couldn't be slower than that and be sure of gaining entry to Boston next year.  I got one of Andy's 3:10 effort-adjusted pacebands and followed it religiously through the first 21 miles.  It worked like a charm; I was actually 90 seconds under pace at mile 20.   Me and JohnfromRoy had been running together for the entire race. Somewhere in mile 21, he remarked how heavy his legs felt.  Suddenly, I noticed how heavy my legs felt.  I looked up to see how far it was to the turn on Fort Union.  It looked to be as far away as Mordor.  The sun got hotter.  My throat got dry.  My mind went blank, and I started to feel dizzy.  I angled to the side of the road,  told him to finish strong, and started walking.  

While John gapped me,  I put the time to good use, and untangled my iPod.  A sprinkler by the roadside cooled me off a bit.  I made it to mile 22 and checked my accumulated time against the pace band.  1 minute over 3:10 pace.  Could be worse.  I turned on the music.  It distracted my mind enough to resume, and keep running.  My son showed up just before the turn with a Mtn Dew.  I slowed for a few swallows.  The sugar revived me a bit, but what really took over was the course.  Ft Union offered up some steep downhill.  Somehow, I was running, and running well.  Garmin was showing 6:50-7:10 pace!  That cheered me up, because I had given away all my cushion, plus a little more, on Wasatch.  

At mile 24 I did some math, and knew I could finish under 3:13, as long as I kept running.  Those final miles seemed so long. It's hard to explain after the fact, but my thinking and emotional state during those 15 minutes ranged far and wide.  The thing that simmers to the top is a feeling of intense gratitude for life and capability; able to run, strive, and even suffer. 

At the entry to the finish, I looked up from my reverie of pain, concentration, and music to see a familiar face.  Shouting my name, encouraging me to finish strong, was Nate.  He came up from Springville to make sure I took care of business.  

Today at work, observing me limping around, one of my co-workers asked me "WHY?"

I don't have a 5 second response to that question.  

5.5 years ago, I felt gloomy and dark.  In March, I went for a 2 mile run.  I loved the motion, the panting-scraping-sweating.  In July I ran a sub 20 5k.  On the 24th, I raced my sister at Desnews 10k.  That fall, I ran a half.  The next spring I ran my first marathon.  Over that year, my brain began to change.  

I often tell people, "Running is the most effective and least utilized anti-depressant."  

For that reason alone, I will keep running.  But beyond that, I run to affirm something ineffable.  To occasionally scrape up against TRUTH, perhaps in the late miles of a marathon, on top of a mountain, or at the crest of a trail.  To meditate while my body moves through space, to connect with a child on a bike, or in a stroller, or with a friend matching strides.

So Marathon #12 will be Boston 2015.  At least I will run for a course PR.  Maybe a PR.  Or maybe Nate and I will run a 4:00 Boston, like we joked on Saturday.  For now, I'll try to walk like a normal person.

First time out after the marathon.  Legs feel fine, left medial metatarsals don't.  Just a bit sore.

BabyGaby woke up at 4.  Strange, cuz he hasn't been up in the night for months.  Bellyache?  Earache?  Got him back down with clean pants, but he was awake again at 5:30.  On an unusually warm morning in late september, (nearly 70 degrees), we ran the deserted Sunday Centerville Streets, double yellow lining.  He never fell asleep, but never cried unless I walked.  How insightful, this nearly 1 year old baby, to know that walking while running is not a cause for celebration, but rather, sorrow.

Ash was up when we got home.  She made me german pancakes for breakfast.  I miss when she was my running buddy.

Slow, evening miles with Tami and Hannah.

Another July-type evening run.  Man, it is staying hot late in the year.  It took three miles, but I finally warmed up and had a nice finish to this run.  

My legs seem to have bounced back quickly from the marathon, but the joints in my feet are achy.  Tami wanted me to run St. George with her, and I had to defer.  I could do half safely, but if I ran another marathon in this condition, I think I'd end up sidelined for several months.

It was pretty rainy for a while, but warm.

The usual with Jack in the stroller.  Or was it Gabe?  I need to do a better job of keeping up on these entries.