on the iPod: "good life" -- one republic
I've never claimed to be an expert on anything. I know quite a bit about a myriad of unrelated subjects, including, but not limited to: labrador retrievers, the Episcopal church, coffee, SEC football, the Redneck Riviera, pizza, sweeping (I love to sweep), social psychology, the Dave Matthews Band (still the best live shows i've ever seen), the neuron, getting up early, honey badgers (i've seen the video waaay too many times), and procrastination. I also know a thing or two about running, but i'm no expert. Not even close.
Furthermore, i'm almost always comfortable with acquiescence; it's a good thing to be surrounded by people who know more than myself. I'll be the first to admit when it's time to shut up and learn. But i'll be damned if I'll ever understand the importance of tapering two weeks before a marathon. Why stop running long distances right before running the ultimate long distance? Deep down, I understand the concept: back off the heavy mileage in an effort to let your legs be as fresh as possible for the main event. It's not that I don't understand it per se, but rather I don't like it. I just want to run. As much and as often and as far as possible. Like a good student of the discipline, however, I'll follow the plan and lay low for the next two weeks. But I won't like it.
Because of scheduling conflicts, yesterday's final long run before the marathon was a solo venture. Mrs. Murie was babysitting her nephews and Mrs. Pugh was in Missouri for her niece's christening. I skipped out on my own nephew's soccer game and, not that he necessarily noticed I wasn't there, will try to figure out some way to make it up to him. I went to one of his matches last season and quickly realized that it wasn't an actual soccer game as much as it was a bunch of three year olds running around after the ball, picking their noses, and vaguely paying attention to what the coach had to say. He's the cutest kid on the planet, with his big afro and even bigger personality, and I'll never forget the day my sister brought him home. He came into our lives for a reason, and I can't help but smile every single time I see his sweet little face. Sometimes I have to hold back emotions when he calls me "Uncle Gweg", not having complete control of pronunciation just quite yet. Watching him grow up has been a gift, and i'm blessed to be a part of that experience. I think of him often when running, and will do so during the marathon as well.
Running solo was a blessing in disguise, however, as it afforded me the chance to focus solely on pace. As much as i've loved training with Mrs. Murie throughout the summer months, the truth is that she is completely capable of finishing significantly ahead of me. And she will. We've agreed from the beginning that we would run our own races and not hold back for each other. I'm completely cool with that, knowing that we'll start together but I'll run pretty much the entire distance by myself. Well, by myself surrounded by 45,000 runners from all over the world. And an estimated 1.7 million spectators. I'm not making those numbers up.
The 18 miles was great; I was surprised with my production and pleased with how my legs responded to taking quicker breaks. Running the entire distance, not walking at all, I felt engaged in the process. I was aware, lucid, focused. The morning couldn't really have been better in terms of a final long run, all of the elements were there: my energy was consistent, legs held up fine, iPod was rolling the perfect playlist (including my three current favorites: Idina Menzel, Kanye West, and The Band Perry), the weather was spot-on. Finishing relatively early, around 9:45, I could have gone further. I had the legs to do it, but reminded myself that there is some real benefit to this whole tapering concept. I'm not an expert in running, but there are plenty of them out there and they all recommend tapering. Damn them.
The silver lining of tapering (there's always a silver lining, right?) is that it begins the build-up to the actual marathon. It's somewhat like an unofficial start. For these next two weeks, the 2011 Chicago Marathon will be at the forefront of my thoughts. It's what i've been working for all summer long, it's what i've read about, it's what i've trained for, it's been in my dreams. With each and every day it gets closer, and I can't wait to get on the plane, to feel the energy of the corral, to hear the gun go off, to see the crowds cheering, to push myself in the final miles, to cross the finish line. There's not much left to do other than lace up and give it my best shot. I'll do it by myself, but only in the literal sense. Figuratively, there'll be so many people along for the run: my students and fellow BHS teachers, my friends, my sister, my parents, my family that have gone before me. And my nephew Charles, with his sweet little smile. He'll be there, too.
It's almost time to run.
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