|
Last year, I missed my
goal by just over 16 minutes. For a man’s ego, this lapse
in personal accomplishment is like a slow poison seeping into
the fiber of his being. For a year, I stewed about my “failure”
and knew that if I was going to get on with my life, I would
have to revisit this particular non-accomplishment.
Luckily, the Big Sur happens every year so I had my
chance with the added benefit of a year’s worth of training.
This year, I attacked it a bit different by concentrating on
consistency. I was consistency kicking my own butt to get out
on the road and not let anything get in the way.
I used the exact same schedule from last year which
starts 12 weeks out and has runs 4 days per week. Instead of
the 0500 dark morning runs, my schedule allowed me to push the
runs later in the morning and still get to class. The tail end
of a master’s degree is a scheduling dream, let me tell
you.
I tried to keep my weight down (an arduous feat in
itself at age 34) and even invested in two pairs of good (read
as: very expensive) running shoes while my wife kept me decked
out in some high quality running apparel. I was set, right?
Doesn’t the gear make you run faster? Hello?
I was also very fortunate this year not to have any
major running injuries. Other than a few bouts with poison oak
(an annual event) and a dog
that likes to roll around in regurgitated
animal gore, my training woes were quite uneventful. No
twisted ankles (a miracle) and no shin splints. In other words,
I had no excuse which really put the pressure on. In fact, the
most difficult part of my training were the 20 mile training
runs which, quite honestly, kicked my buttocks. This was a scary
realization since, if you’ve ever run a marathon, the
20 mile mark is not what is commonly know as “the finish
line.” These crazy people want you to go 6.2 miles more.
Nutballs!!! The only good thing about these runs was that since
I was participating in the Weight Watchers plan with my wife,
a run like that earned me like a trillion bonus points and allowed
me to eat my house on top of my regular meals.
The stories:
|
