Now I must go to Boston

On this past Wednesday's morning run, I passed a young woman, also running, going in the opposite direction. We traded smiles. In itself, that act of one runner smiling at or saying hi to another runner is nothing unusual. It happens quite often. An unspoken acknowledgment of mutual understanding. It's one of the many pleasures of running. On this particular Wednesday morning, however, I like to think that what was exchanged between her and me was a special acknowledgment that we are family. A family that includes all the runners at last Monday's Boston Marathon, as well as all their supporters. A family that includes every runner who laces up a pair of shoes and heads out the door, to do what one loves so passionately, one step at a time. The running community is a highly self-selective one and, thus, is open to everyone. Running is such a positive, life-affirming act--an organic part of life. Running is both individualistic and, paradoxically, communal. It brings out the best in all of us. Running is so fitting a metaphor for life; it's how life ought to be lived.

I wasn't at Boston (through I'm training to qualify so I can be there, hopefully, in 2014). I figured, had I been there, my current marathon time would have put me near the finish line at Copley Square around the time the bombs went off. Thus, I feel a certain connection to the runners who were there. I don't know any of the people who were so grievously affected; yet, the losses feel personal.


Much have been written by many about their feelings and reactions to the horrific events in Boston: Shock, disbelief, sadness, heartache, anger, defiance, resolve. All were asking, what can I do to help, to contribute to the healing and recovery. Here are a couple ways that I've used: Boston Tribute Tee, with all profits donated to The One Fund Boston. Many have also expressed the strong feeling that the running must go on, that that is the best way to pay tribute to all who have lost so much. The Boston Marathon will be back next year bigger and stronger. I'd posted my previous piece, I want to go to Boston, last Sunday, the day before the race. Now I must go to Boston. Somehow, I will find a way to toe that starting line at Hopkinton.

I want to go to Boston

Well, yeah, doesn't everyone? Or, at least, doesn't every runner want to go to Boston?! I'm not sure how or when exactly, like an ear worm, the idea of trying to qualify for the Boston Marathon got into my head, but, ever since, it has firmly wedged itself in there. A few weeks ago, I joined the Run Your BQ (Boston qualifying) online community to help me chart a course to Boston. Lots of resources (training plans, videos, etc.) are available, and interactions with other similarly obsessed runners in the community are great. We understand each other. The Marine Corps Marathon (MCM) in October will be my BQ race. Being infected by the BQ ear worm has helped re-focus my training, after the two post-Rock 'n' Roll (RnR) USA recovery weeks. I'm currently in week 3 of a new 16-week program, aimed at (possibly) the Grandfather Mountain Marathon in July. After the latter, I'll begin a higher mileage program for MCM.

Having the goal of qualifying for Boston really changes the mental aspect of training. On those occasional mornings, when willing the body to go out and run is just a bit harder than usual, the BQ ear worm is quite effective! (Usually, it suffices just knowing that I've never gone out for a run and come back regretting it.) But, is it specifically Boston that effects the mental change? Or, is it any goal? Boston, of course, is kind of special, with all its history. But, could it be any of the other major marathons, or smaller local races, or a first 50K (into the ultra world!), or a first 50M, or, dare I dream, a first 100M! :) The answer must be yes; any goal helps effect the mental change that focuses one's training. Still, why does Boston seem to effect a sharper focus than did, e.g., RnR USA? I think the answer here, for me, is that Boston as a goal is more outside my comfort zone than was RnR. I see runners my age and older qualifying for Boston or running a sub-3:00 marathon (e.g., Ed Whitlock, Mike Fremont), and I think, wow, that's way past my comfort zone. But then again, it's at least feasible. And, as that ear worm becomes more and more familiar, more and more I think, hey, I can do that--I want to do that!

How do I reconcile my being a process-oriented person with the importance of having goals in running (or in other parts of life)? Well, the overall goal in running is my continual improvement and learning about myself in that process (!). Specific goals, like Boston, are simply markers (metrics) along the way, some more prominent than others, all ear worms that keep telling me that, yeah, you can do that!

Adaptation vs. aging curves

Back many, many years ago, when I was at the natural peak of long distance running potential, I didn't think much about training and just went out 5-6 mornings a week and ran 6 or so miles at an even easy pace of about 8:00. No speed work, no hill work, no tempo runs, no fartleks, none of that. I ran my first marathon and first 10K (both in Ithaca, NY) during that period. Both the marathon and 10K times (4:14 and 39:36, respectively) are still PRs. Since then, until 4-5 years ago, I continued to run, but at a just-to-stay-fit level (15-25 mi/wk). Since I started to more "seriously" run and race again, I've been chasing those earlier PRs. I'm currently at 4:22 for marathon (Mar. 2013) and 49:35 for 10K (Nov. 2012). I'll be trying to qualify for the Boston Marathon this October (MCM), and the 8-minute drop to a new marathon PR should be no problem. :) But, is a sub-40 10K still doable? Runners my age or older are doing it, so, obviously, it's feasible. But, what do I need to do to train and adapt, to do it myself? Likewise, a sub-3:00 for a marathon is also feasible for my age--and older! (See, e.g., Ed Whitlock and Mike Fremont.) But, how to get there? There's that story of someone asking Jascha Heifetz "Could you tell me how to get to Carnegie Hall?" to which Heifetz replied, "Yes, practice!" What was unstated was that the practice needs to be correct--else one becomes very good in playing badly! Similarly, the answer to how does one get to Boston (or any other time and distance goals in running) is not just training, but the right kind of training. I recently joined the Run Your BQ (Boston qualifying) online community to help guide me towards Boston.

The interplay between adaptation and aging is fascinating! From my time drops in recent races, I know that the adaptation curve is not actually a "curve," but rather a stair-stepped function, driven by a kind of running version of "punctuated equilibria." Does the same apply to the aging curve? Where are you along the adaptation and aging curves?