Day 62. It featured plenty of eggs (six), fruits (banana, orange, banana, tomato), pasta (half box), vegetables (spinach, broccoli, onions) and miles (11 – five and a half on the way to work, five and a half home). Sixty-one miles total completed this week on the new pair of shoes. There’s no point in counting down, but a look at the calendar would have revealed 52 days to go.
For me, the marathon – and running in general – is a series of cold, hard calculations.
As the days finally start lengthening out and the city shovels the last remnants of early April snow, there’s a lot to be said around this time about the Boston Marathon. And rightfully so. Direct connection to the city’s vibrant long-distance running culture or not, every resident is touched in some way by the day that holds the world’s oldest annual marathon. The day that recognizes the history of one of the country’s most important events. The day that celebrates a statewide holiday informally described as the spirit of “St. Patrick’s Day, New Year’s Eve and Christmas all rolled into one.”
I get all of this. I love the joy that the race creates, the support of local charities and the camaraderie I feel when training with the Cambridge Running Club.
But for me, the marathon – and running in general – is a series of cold, hard calculations. A string of factors and numbers that drive me to become faster, and to continually improve. It’s the primary motivator and a strong consolation against the fact that I’ll never be at the top. I’m consumed by the prospect of being better. Every stride of every run and every action in the 16 weeks leading to Boston is a conscious decision to work toward that goal. The means – the minutiae of carefully measured training numbers interspersed with detailed food, stretching and weight records – are nearly on equal level with the ultimate end, the race itself.
The regimen provides confidence against a challenging backdrop. The course is notoriously difficult, not just for the steep climbs but the punishing descents as well. The forecast shows 70 degrees, made worse by the fact that the high temperature is even warmer relative to the winter months and recent cold spell. But the ultimate detail-oriented preparation (now more than ever before) is a strong basis for me to go out and break my PR, 2:55, from six months ago on a flatter, cooler course. I have to go for it. That’s the singular option.
It would be easy to say that this is the result of a general life outlook. At work, there’s no question that I value extreme organization, rigid adherence to processes and an early start to the day as I go through my responsibilities crunching through strings of data (or writing an article on deadline). Chunks of the day are planned out in advance; projects and assignments are checked off in meticulous fashion.
More than a reflection or extension of a personality, however, running acts as the driving force that organizes everything else in my daily life. The fundamental catalyst. It’s not simply an additional activity that fits into a previously defined approach to each day or week. I appreciate having structure in things, but it’s not something that’s always inherent. Running is the backbone to it all, and not only in the sense of escape, relaxation, diversion or fun. It’s what pushes me to pursue “better” – in any area.
Day 91. Week 13: 102 miles. Acceptable splits on the final long training run. More fruit. More eggs. More pasta. More vegetables. A lot more. Peanut butter. Salami. Thirty-seven straight days running, 92 percent of which at double-digit miles. That’s 912 miles for the year, 945 overall. Still way too much time to count down to Monday, April 18. But it feels like it’s almost here.
