This Saturday at 7:35 am, I’ll be in line for the USAF Marathon.
I have been dutifully not training for this event for 16 weeks.
I’m starting to get anxious.
Or maybe it’s just the coffee.
The foxy and clever Jennifer switched me to half-caff. Meanwhile, I’m trying to drink twice as much to make up for the deficiency. That means a lot of trips to the little boys room, arguably enough miles to make up for my complete lack of training base.
Of course, there’s nothing I can do about my training sins now. I’ll have to suck it up and run–slowly.
I did buy a new pair of shoes for the event. They are New Balance 1122s, my 5th pair. They were pretty hard to find. New Balance began phasing them out for a new model late this summer, coincidentally about the same time I began my training taper a month ahead of schedule.
All of the shoe guys and gals recommend you break in your shoes for at least 75 miles or so before a big event, such as a 26-mile race across a military base. Mine have less than a tenth of that. The alternative is a pair that has well over 600 miles, however, so I’ll lace up the new pair and hope for an injury-free run.
To be clear and honest (sort of like fair-and-balanced only not as reactionary), I kept up fairly well with my long runs. And I did so in the face of the rather extreme trials of August-in-Kentucky heat and humidity.
I put in 2 long runs of 22 miles. I threw up during one run, and a cyclist stopped to ask if I was OK, but with a walk break and heavy-duty fluid push, I finished the workout.
I’ve also been out on my mountain bike several times, I’ve been climbing once or twice a week, and playing bitchin and aggressive racquetball matches weekly.
It’s just the mid-week runs I’ve been neglecting. It’s hard to get out the door in the late summer, harder with kids starting at a new school, harder with a new job, and harder still, when you account for the fact that while I love running, I am normally and sensibly afraid to go out the door where people will see me in my split-shorts and singlet.
Nobody has ever pointed, yelled an obscenity, or thrown anything at me, but I’m confident they’re thinking, “That dude looks miserable. He should really take up sudoku or something else more appropriate for his age, such as television viewing.”
For a now-middle-aged fella with no training, I’m not entirely out of shape, and I’d guess I’m at least as prepared as I was for Chicago last fall.
Still, 26.2 seems like a long way right now.
The good news: They allow 8 hours to finish.