November 13, 2009

I could have written most of this story a month ago when I first found out. But I waited for a couple of reasons. First because I was in denial and thought that somehow it would all just work itself out. The second reason I held this to myself is that it probably wouldn't matter anyway. But now it does.

November 13th, 2009. Rain pelting my bedroom window woke me up that morning, a gust of wind slapping it up against the pane, it was so early that there was not yet even a hint of dawn attempting to push through the clouds and darkness. I finally had a day off from work and the all too familiar 5 a.m. ringing of my alarm clock. It was tempting to just pull the blankets up tight around my head and enjoy the storm from inside the covers.

But I was training for a marathon and for me that means having to get my training runs in whenever I can find the time. This day was going to be busy and the only time I had available for this run which would take over an hour was now. Later I wrote in my Buckeye Outdoors log:

Was supposed to run this last night but I just ran out of time after work. It was POURING while I ran this and the wind was blowing hard so---I had a good time! Only thing was that my long running pants got so water logged that they started adhering to the front of my legs which made a pulling effect with the still loose back part causing the zipper at the bottom of each leg to open and start flapping around. Never saw that one coming. Got back just in time to shower up and drive down for my 9am dental appointment. http://connect.garmin.com/activity/18652262

This was a 7 mile run in the middle of a week in which I would record a total of over 54 miles, including the longest of the training cycle, a 22.7 miler on Sunday morning. Just another in a long string of weekend mornings where I was up before the sun preparing for the CIM just three weeks later.

The preparation for that December race had started on the first day of the new year when I ecstatically proclaimed myself "back" and dedicated to a goal that I saw as only remotely possible. A runner rededicated and spending the next year preparing for either the Portland or California International Marathon and maybe, just maybe, transforming myself from a tub of goo into a person capable of qualifying for the Boston Marathon. The year would be full of obstacles I was sure, but if I could find a plan, stay consistent, avoid injury and have a little luck, maybe I would get close. It was a big maybe.

In January, the month I committed to this, I ran 27 times for a total of 131 miles. Most of that time I felt bloated and out of shape but I kept working, knowing that underneath I still had a base of training from the last few years to build upon.

Over the next months I was pretty consistent. I did melt some during the peak summer months and purposely ran less than I should-- but right up to that rainy morning in mid November I had put in a lot of time and logged a lot of miles: over 200 runs averaging nearly an hour each for a total of 1255 miles. That's a ton of miles but it didn't do it all by myself.

Long distance running is an individual sport but for an average guy like me it would be impossible to set a goal like Boston without a lot of help. My role around the house as dad and husband was changed by my running schedule but once again I got support from Lynda and the boys. And where would I have been without Randy who sacrificed much of his own family time to be with me on the weekends and evenings. How many different ways can you say thank you to a person that gives so much to you?

But the turning point in this whole odyssey came when John Ellis contacted me to help me once again with my training. After September 25th when I was once again under his fine tutelage I ran an average of 9 miles each time I laced up and committed over an hour and 20 minutes on average to each workout. I know I would not have done so much without him and certainly would not have had expert coaching. John kept the miles coming, keeping me on the edge of my ability. There were often times when I would get off work, after spending 10 hour there, come home and immediately dress down for a two hour run in the dark with a flashlight.

It was my sacrifice and so my reward if I could do it. I ran nearly ever workout John suggested, fought through some injuries and found compromises with the other parts of my life that also demanded my attention.

November 13th, 2009. I didn't pull the blankets back up that morning and didn't stay in my comfortable bed. Instead I got out and went for a run in the rain. Not because I had to but because that's who I am right now. And once I was out there I had a good time just like I always do.

But something else happened on that day. The Boston Athletic Association suddenly and without any warning closed all the entries for QUALIFIED runners. Just 3 weeks away from my qualifying race and my legs were cut out from under me. Those of us who had just spent the last year preparing for this moment suddenly had no where to go in April-- even if we qualified. It was by far the earliest the BAA had ever closed the race and certainly the first time that California International Marathon qualifiers would not be accepted.

I knew all of this during the last part of my training, my taper, the CIM and when I wrote my race report for this blog. But I didn't want the news of it to detract from everything I had done. Which sometimes just doesn't matter.