Back in the Saddle

After a good two months of shunning running (just listen to that full-bodied rhyme), I've recommitted to the pavement.  I've decided to run my second marathon in 2011 and for some bizarre reason I decided to announce on Sunday that my goal is to run it in less than five hours.

This is rather ludicrous.

My last (and first) marathon (Twin Cities 2009) was completed in five hours, 30 minutes. I was just thrilled to survive! I ran the whole way and was coherent enough to drink a beer and eat a Jucy Lucy after the finish, loved ones and dedicated cheerleaders beside me. It was one of the happiest and most exhausting days of my life.  But the further I got away from that day, the more exhausted I became at its memory.  The adrenaline of training, the weeks and weeks of 18 mile training runs, the thrill of its newness and my fear of failure kept me going.  But once it was over, I shuddered at the thought of putting myself through that again.

In 2010 I decided early on that it was not a marathon year.  The half-marathons had always been a more enjoyable distance and so I decided to tackle six half-marathons in six months instead of training for a full.  I ended up doing seven half-marathons, the last of which was a personal best made more perfect by my companion, kid sister, Caroline. By the end of the racing season at the end of October, I was exhausted again.  Seven half-marathons is a different type of exhaustion than training for the full.  The full was a slow and steady build to one crazycrazycrazy physical adventure.  The seven half-marathons involved seven months of maintaining a very specific level of fitness and that maintenance really did run me down after awhile.

It was at that point of fatigue that I realized something about myself.  I kinda like exhausting myself. I like pushing myself to the point where my body tells me, "nope. that's it. you're done."  And then I like answering, "not quite yet."  In the months after 2009's marathon and 2010's half-marathon bonanza, I rested and enjoyed my rest in ways I never did as a non-runner.  I think when you've made your body do extraordinary things you tend to love it a little more, treat it a little kinder, take care of it the way you'd take care of a priceless machine.  As a fat (lets not mince words) non-runner, I would freak out over the 4-5 lbs I'd gain over the holidays.  It just seemed like such a desperate endeavor to get rid of the weight.   Now, as a runner on hiatus, I weighed in after New Year's, looked at that extra 4 lbs and just thought, "well, that needs to come off before the half-marathon in March."  It was functional. The way I think of my car, "need to get the oil changed before vacation." It's not a terrifying thing.  I took some time off.  I enjoyed my time off.  And now, it's time to restart the engine.

In the two months since my last race I've opted for long walks until the cold forced me into the gym and onto the Stairmaster. I gained a few lbs, as noted above, but nothing disastrous, and nothing a few weeks of focus won't fix.  The pounds don't worry me near as much as the goal of a sub-five hour marathon. Because now that I've said it outloud, now that it's communal knowledge, I feel like I've shaken hands with God.  This is what I promise to do. This is what I will accomplish. Er, wish me luck...

In my first marathon I worried about finishing.  I have no such fears this time. I know I can run 26.2 miles and my legs won't actually fall off. But I'm not so sure of a five hour marathon.  My fastest half-marathon was 2 hours, 18 minutes, just shy of a 10:30/mile pace.  Prior to the 2009 marathon, my only half-marathon was at 2 hours, 30 minutes. But I would say my average showing is right smack dab in the middle of my fastest and slowest times.  I've run several half-marathons right at 2 hours, 25 minutes.  That doesn't leave much wiggle room at all for coming in under five hours, especially given the second half of the marathon is just a wee bit rougher than the first.

But I'm reminding myself that prior to my first half-marathon, the thought of running one was a joke.  The same can be said prior to my first full marathon.  So while my eyebrow naturally raises at a goal of sub-five hours, I'm also game for the challenge.  Today was my first day of training, my first recognition that the miles from here on out are cumulative and each one is important.

I have had a lovely rest. 

Now it's time to run.