As summer is approaching at super sonic speed, and my body is starting to feel recovered after my death march of a race in Boston, I can honestly say I'm excited to train for another marathon. The cataclysm of a race in Boston was humbling and stocking. I feel I will forever have some PTSD, or some extensively repressed memories from that "race". It was a stock to know I was never in the shape I thought I was in. In fact, I probably had no clue what shape I was in and could've just picked a random time out of a hat. Instead, I incorrectly guessed I was in 2:30 shape. And with the weather being a little warmer and dryer than usual, I knowingly went out even faster than my self-prescribed time. I believe I latched on to a 2:28 group and dumb heartingly strolled along for as long as possible; which was only about 9 miles. After that, the rest was a painful blur. It was a long crawl home to the finish, and two distinct things came to mind after I was painfully lifting one leg after the other. One thought was the fact that I wasn't injuring myself in the slow and miserable process I called, running. And the other thought was how actually grateful I was to be on the pavement in Boston, running in the Boston Marathon.
The thought of running in the Boston Marathon is a dream of mine and many runners alike. Of course, my dream of racing Boston wasn't to see the hour mark tick anywhere near 3 hours. But I was still beyond appreciative of being able to run the distance and make it from start to finish without hurting myself. The only thing I hurt was my reputation, and that will take some time to heal. Otherwise, I saw zero reason to quite and drop out. I've never dropped out of a race in my life, and I sure as heck wasn't going to drop out of the Boston Marathon. I thought to myself, I may never get the chance to race/run in Boston again, so you better not drop out. I have my pride of running quick and putting everything I have on the line in most of the races I compete in. I hate losing, but to me; the worst thing than losing is giving up for the shake of not winning. I've talked to a lot of people after the race, and I've gotten a lot of congratulatory compliments, but of course I know I ran beyond what words could describe as horrendous. "Like Crap" or "I don't even know what happened" are my usual responses to most people who have an idea of how slow I ran. But, deep down it was a learning experience and I learned a lot. I learned you can't average low mileage and only one 20 miler and expect to run a fast marathon. I learned how important all the workouts shape and build you as a runner. And most importantly, I experienced how well you need to tune into your body and ask it to do something that's incredible.
