on the iPod: "all your life" -- the band perry
Distance runners are creatures of habit. Why else would otherwise sane and intelligent grown adults go to the trouble of training four full months to do something as ridiculous as running 26.2 miles? It makes no sense whatsoever. It's ludicrous. Pointless. Futile.
Wait a minute. Strike that. It makes complete sense to me. I digress...
But I do, however, stand by the assertion that most distance runners, myself included, crave habit and routine. And as much as I love Spring Break, the truly American tradition of shutting classroom doors and tuning out cognitive processes for a week of slumber and revelry, it throws a kink into Month Three of marathon training. Damn you, Spring Break!!
Since Mrs. Murie and I would both be traveling, she to the Pacific Northwest and I to the Rocky Mountains, we had to be creative to stay on track for our long runs. We both agreed to meet first thing after the last bell on Friday to get in a 15 miler. After a long week of teaching and grading and trying to keep restless students focused on Freud instead of freedom, I was exhausted but completely ready to run. I couldn't think of a better way to start Spring Break than with a good, solid distance run with my fellow teacher and best good running friend.
The sky above was void of clouds and the sun provided a warmth that begged for outdoor activity. Within four miles of our out-and-back on the trail system, the week of work began to take its toll, as we both felt less than fresh, unlike our typical Saturday morning distance runs. Agreeing that it was still better than not running, we gave as much effort as possible and made the best of our weary legs.
With quite a bit of separation between us, the final five or six miles gave me pause for reflection. I found my thoughts gravitating toward the people in my life that are so special and important to me. I thought quite a bit about my sister and nephew. Though I'm not for sure that i've ever told her, when I watch the two of them interact it becomes clear to me just exactly how much she loves him. He is extremely focused on being a four-year-old boy, constantly interested in whatever sport is currently in season and not much else, but he also loves her very much. They are a great pair, the two of them.
I also thought about a friend who I missed seeing at the Little Rock Half Marathon just a few weeks back. Though we don't see each other often, she's someone i've known for years and have always enjoyed, primarily because of her caring personality and vibrant spirit. She's one of those people that's always happy. At any rate, I had kept up with her training and was excited for her that she'd be crossing the finish line for the first time. I, too, had run my first half marathon in Little Rock just two years earlier. When I didn't see her at the expo or downtown the morning of the race, I chalked it up to the chaos of 10,000 runners from all over the nation converging on our state's capital. I told myself that I'd find her or her husband, Justin, after the race and give them both a hug.
What I didn't know at the time was that she wasn't even in Little Rock that weekend. In fact, she was back home facing one of those unexpected life circumstances that tends to show up completely out of the blue. My friend had a new race to run, a much larger race, one that many women face with bold and unwavering courage. She stood strong and fought hard, and, if I know her like I think I do, she never for one moment thought about not finishing. And she didn't. My friend is a survivor and a winner and I'm so happy for her and her whole family. There will be more half-marathons in her life and if she wants to give it another shot, I know she'll be successful. In the meantime, while she focuses on more important things, I'll be thinking of her when I run, just like I did in those final few miles last weekend.
I finished that 15 miler with a smile on my face, ready to take a week off and tear down the peaks of Breckenridge, Colorado. My legs and feet were both feeling the effects of not only two months of training, but also the first half of the spring semester. It was time to not think about running for a while. And Breck would be a great distraction.
The skiing was perfect. It was three full days of sun-soaked skies and groomed powder trails. Not only did I leave my running shoes at home, I didn't really even think about running. I just skied. A lot.
After some good rest and decompressing, yesterday marked the longest distance in training for Nashville: 20 miles. And with Mrs. Murie still out in Oregon enjoying the coast, i'd be going it alone. Not having my friend with me would be a blessing and a curse, as pacing and focus would be more difficult, but I would also get the chance to run a long distance solo, which i'll be doing for my third marathon. The truth is that I didn't really care one way or the other: after not running for an entire week, I was ready to lace up and get after it.
The trails were packed, and it was great fun to see some of the locals that share my passion for running. At intermittent spots throughout the morning, I passed and talked to Sarah Hood, Mark Vetter, a group from the Starbucks crew, Erica Asfahl, and Deanna Duplanti. Of course, Deanna couldn't pass by without giving me a hug, but we stopped only briefly enough to say hello and encourage each other. After we went our separate ways on the trail, I continued to think about her, as she's been going through the grieving process these last few weeks. She's such a strong person and runner, I know that she'll be okay.
The 20 miler wasn't easy. In fact, it was the most difficult training run that I've experienced in quite sometime. I'm not for sure if I missed having Mrs. Murie with me or if I was dealing with a snow skiing hangover, but it was really difficult. My pacing was slow, my legs felt heavy, and I ran out of energy with two miles left. My left foot was completely ripped up and i've got the blisters to prove it. This one below is a particularly nasty one that popped somewhere around mile 16. That was really fun.
Ending on the long, gradual incline leading to Veteran's Park was a full-on gut check. I refused to walk, but could only muster enough energy to keep the slowest of jogging paces. The difficulty of the run, however, didn't on any level tamper my enjoyment. Truly, I loved every mile and relished being back in my running shoes doing what I love so much. Next weekend is the Bentonville Half Marathon and the weekend after that is another 20 miler. After that, it will be time to taper and play the waiting game for the Nashville Marathon.
I can't wait.
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