Boston Taper Time
Here we are again…
Here we are again my friends. The short days leading up to the Boston Marathon. It’s weird. I’m not nervous at all. Maybe I’ve made it into one of my habits? Maybe I’ve made the Boston Marathon like driving to the store? Just another routine thing I do? I hope not.
It’s quite a big deal to get desensitized to. Maybe the emotional impact of the last two years has left my ‘emotion tank’ running a little low. Or as my coach told me this morning, “You’re just old.”
This routine includes training for many months and even years. This habit includes qualifying or or at least trying to and then maybe working with a charity. This routine involves all the things I’ve learned in long distance running and road racing over a ¼ of a century.
I’m certainly not numb to it. But, I guess I’m used to it. There’s no taper madness this time around. There’s nothing on the line. There is no big stack of chips in the middle of the table that tilt periously in the balance of an unknown outcome.
Do I have advice? Sure, I’m full of it and you’ve heard it all before. Nuggets like ‘watch your eating in the taper, don’t over hydrate, get your stretching in, avoid yard work, get a good massage and clip your toenails’.
I’ve given it. You’ve heard it.
Do I have advice about the race? Yup, I’m full of it. ‘Don’t go out to fast. Hold back and accelerate through the hills. Don’t get overwhelmed by the atmosphere. Let the race come to you’.
It’s ground that has been plowed.
…
But how do I feel? How am I going into this one?
My legs feel great. I honestly haven’t felt this aerobically strong since ultra-training in 2008. I have zero, zilch, nada – no pain or niggles whatsoever in my legs.
Nutritionally I’m strong. I’ve been trying to eat clean for over two months and am down 10 pounds. I’m at a nice race weight of 180. I tried to make sure I didn’t lose too much too fast this time around. And I tried to learn some new things. Some new dishes. Some new cooking techniques. You might even call me ‘lean’.
I’ve gotten the miles in. I’ve been running around 40 miles a week since November. I’m strong. I’ve been doing my core and my yoga. I’m flexible enough for a guy my age.
Which is funny. Here I am at 52 and a half years old. I’m fit. I’m lean. I’m well-balanced and happy – but I’m still bothered. Sure, my big brain knows that it’s silly as shit, but my animus is still bothered. I still have those bony hag fingers plucking at the back of my brain with all the things that I’m not.
I’m not fast enough. I’m not strong enough. I’m not flexible enough. I didn’t work hard enough. I didn’t suffer enough. I didn’t give 100%. I’m a pretender. I’m not worthy of this race and these people.
And I know everyone has these thoughts. In my youth I called them daemons and worked to train them into muses. This is the irrational side of the human soul. This is the unquenchable fire that drives us as a race to find boundaries and go beyond them. I know this, but it still bothers me that I’m not scared stiff and sore and broken going into the Boston Marathon.
I did not go to the dark place. This training cycle was quite benign and additive in nature.
I got enough 3-hour long runs in. Some on a hilly course in inclement weather. I raced a 20 miler with pretty good results. The base is there.
All of these data points tell me that I have nothing to worry about running 26.2 miles on a course I know well in my 49th marathon. Something would have to go fairly wrong for this to go sideways.
If it weren’t for my heart I’d actually be much more nervous. Why? Because with this base I should be able to race well and even requalify. If it wasn’t for my heart.
My experience shows me that my heart, my Corazon del oro, will start to go into afib about 2 hours into the run. At Boston, what that means is I’ll lose power and efficiency well before I get to the hills. I would expect to be in full funky-chicken mode through the entirety of Newton.
If I can manage the pace and the stress of the weekend I might be able to convince it to settle down through the middle miles and be able to take advantage of the last 10k into the finish.
That’s the taper strategy this week. Stay away from food and drink that is going to stress my body. (Including alcohol). Try to get too much sleep. Which may be a challenge given that I’ll be on the West Coast taking a redeye back Tuesday night.
If it all goes to shit and I stumble into Hopkinton tired and wobbly it really doesn’t matter. With my legs I can stumble through the marathon well enough no matter what happens or what the weather is. I’d have to die for a DNF.
My race strategy is going to be to take it easy from the start and have a disciplined and relaxed pace through to Newton Lower Falls. Try to relax through Newton without crushing myself. If all goes well get to the top of Heartbreak with some juice in the tank.
Based on my training that smells like somewhere between a 3:45 and a 4:00 hour marathon. It really depends on how hard I’m willing to push on the last 10K. It’s hard for me to get motivated when I know there’s really no appreciable difference in the finishing time plus or minus 15 minutes. There’s nothing riding on it. Why push?
I’m slotted to start almost all the way to the back. I’m in one of the last charity corrals. I won’t get off the starting line for a good hour after the first wave.
The good news is that I’ll be eating people up the whole way. I’ll be running with happy, good looking runners who won’t have a care in the world.
The bad news is that the course will be quite crowded and the paces will be all over the place. Back where I am there’s less of an emphasis on pace discipline and race etiquette. Like, it’s perfectly ok to stop in the middle of the road to take pictures. I’ll have to manage my expectations and stay out of grumpy old man syndrome.
That’s all the tactical stuff. What to wear. What to eat. What to do. It’s all tactics. The training is done. The tactics are just polishing the bar. There’s naught else to be done.
What will make the day successful? Not the tactics. Not the execution of yet another marathon. What will make the day successful is the impact I can have on the day, on the other runners, on the spectators, and on the world.
I am an ambassador of my tribe. I am Boston. I am Team Hoyt. I am Hopkinton. I am Heartbreak hill. I am as much part of this legacy as Johnny Kelly and Clarence DeMar. On Monday I leave that legacy on the streets of Massachusetts.
On Monday I renew my vows at the Church of the Unicorn.
I’ll bring my energy, my smile and my karma to this great race. I’ll pitch in and do my best. I’ll help those who need it. I’ll entertain. I’ll welcome. I’ll hold court. I’ll be the ambassador.
One of my great faults is to make routine great things. This is not just another marathon. This is not just another training cycle. This is not just another Boston Marathon. This is a chance. This is a sliver of the space-time continuum that will never be repeated.
This is a celebration. This is a great joining of my tribe.
I will try to be of service.
At some point on Monday morning your thoughts will turn to the Boston Marathon. When they do think of me and my tribe. Send us karma and love.
And, If I’m lucky I’ll see you out there.