Travel Day

Time to think, time to dream

I’m sitting in the airport waiting on a plane.  This in itself is not an unusual place for me to be, but today is different.  I’m not jetting off to the home office to work on processes. I’m not parachuting into a client to save the day.

Today I’m traveling to Pocatello Idaho from Boston Massachusetts for my goal race; the Pocatello Marathon.

It’s an all-day flight.  I’ll have plenty of time to read and write and compose myself.  I’ll get in later after flying all day just in time to pick up my registration and make my way off to bed. The race is in the morning.

I have trained hard for this race.  I’m tempted to say that I have trained harder for this race than any previous race but I’d have to shade that declaration with the realities of age.  I can truthfully say I’ve trained as well as my body, my age and my lifestyle allow.

18 years ago when I first qualified for Boston I was able to train consistently for 7 days a week with relatively high volume for an amateur.  I’d be up into the 50-60 miles a week range with plenty of quality.  But even then I had a career and a life to lead that kept me from giving a true 100% effort.

Over the last few months I have safely traversed a 4-day-a-week schedule with the other 3 days devoted to strength and stretch.

I still did the work.  I did the speed and the tempo.  I did at least 4 runs north of 20 miles.  I trained through the heat of the summer and suffered with purpose.

I am tempted to say that I have trained harder for this race than any previous race.  I can definitely say I trained better.  I kept my strength up.  I changed my diet to lose 20 pounds.  I focused on my mobility and stretching.  I did not miss a work out.

I have never executed a training cycle with this much technical precision.

I sit here in the airport 20 pounds lighter.  With no injury.  With very little tendonitis.  I have done what I can do.  I have done my part.  Now it is up to the marathon Gods in their fickleness to deign provide me a propitious race.

I am confident, but I am nervous.

I am nervous because, in a sense, I am looking to run a personal best in the marathon tomorrow.

I have qualified for the marathon many times, but not under the new qualification standards.  My personal best in the marathon, set in Boston in 1998 was a 3:06:42.  The qualification standard at the time was a 3:10.

If I age grade the tables today that 3:10 would be a 3:05.  That means in 1998 I would have missed the new standard by 1:43.

Last year I ran 13 marathons.  At least 2 of them would have met the old standard for my age group.  None of them made the new qualifying standard.  The closest I came was at last year’s Pocatello Marathon where I missed by a little over 2 minutes.

That’s where we stand.  I need to run a PR tomorrow and I am ready to do so if the fates allow.

The past two weeks during my taper I have worked hard to stay sane. I have found myself grumpy and snappy for no reason.  I have had to work very hard to focus on anything else beside the looming contest.

I feel like a man walking around with some sort of great secret.  I feel like shouting “How can you talk about such petty things when I have a race to run?”

They would be shocked to see the turmoil in my brain.  They would wonder how I was able to interact and survive with the nervous knot pushing constantly against the inside of my solar plexus like some strange alien incubus.

Each day I sit and meditate on my taper and my training and my race.  I visualize gathering up that nervous energy in a great golden ball.  I visualize forming it into glowing golden ball of energy, compressing it into a small ball and I put it in my pocket.

You can be sure I will be reaching into that pocket for this golden energy sometime tomorrow.

Every day I have visualized how I want the race to play out.  I know what my strategy is.  I know I can get to miles 18 and 20.  The challenge, the unknown is what happens in those last 6 miles.  That’s the race.  That’s the fight.  That’s where I will use my golden energy.

I have had the wackiest and most lucid dreams during my taper.  I don’t typically dream and if I do I don’t remember them other than random images and sensations.  The dreams I’ve had this week were fully formed vignettes with colors and visuals and fully formed dialog.

This was that nervous energy pushing its way out of my subconscious.  You would think that after all these years the marathon would no longer have the power to craze me like this.

The harder you train, the more you commit, the larger the bet you are making.  I have pushed all my chips into the center of the table and tomorrow I get to see the dealer’s hand.

I am grateful that I still have the ability to make these bets.  I am grateful that the marathon still has the power to chafe my soul.

I’ve trained well. I’ve prepared well.  I’ve managed my subconscious and kept the right attitude.

I’m ready for my test.

I’ll see you out there.

Chris,