Running versus resting

First off, my wonderful mother (in fact, my only mother) did manage to find this pleasant parcel of real e-state.  I got 5 (very unexpected) e-mails yesterday and almost wet myself laughing.

 

Now, on to other stuff.

 

I’ve read that at this stage of the game what you do between runs is as important as what you do during runs.  That is to say, what you don’t run is as important as what you do.  Run Tuesday, don’t run Wednesday.  Rest is very important.

 

So, over the weekend I didn’t run 6 miles.  I didn’t run 10 miles.  I didn’t run 15 miles.  That’s a lot of not running.  Possibly my best week yet.  I’m not the least bit sorry about it, either.

 

I’m comfortable with my performance in the 30k.  I’m confident that I’ll be able to add 8 miles (actually, closer to 10 considering how I felt over the last 3 miles of the 30k) to my distance over the past several and next few days.  Tonight I’m going to hit the park and put in a fast 3 miles before the weekly bible study.  I’m not overly concerned about under doing it or over doing it.  Oddly enough, I’m not worried much at all.  I’m expecting pre-run jitters the closer we get to M-Day.  Ironically, I think the pre-dinner jitters over MCing the pasta party have occupied my mind away from pre-run jitters.  Weird.  I’ll probably throw myself into a full on panic Saturday night, though.

 

I think the current plan is that I tell myself that we’re just going downtown for a bit of ice cream and waffles.  I’ll tell myself that I need to wear the gear, etc and as soon as the sun comes up we’ll get some ice cream and waffles.  Just walk out there in front of GRB with all the other people waiting to get ice cream and waffles.  Then, when the gun goes off, my brain will finally wizen up to the fact that we’re not getting ice cream and waffles at all and are, in fact, about to run a marathon, but by then it’ll be too late to protest or even formulate a good plan to escape.  The gun will have gone off, the clock started, and I’ll already be 2 miles into the marathon smiling smugly to myself that, once again, I’d outsmarted my brain even though it’s remarkably easy to do.

 

Race prep by denial.  Pure genius.

 

For the next 10 miles I’ll simply tell myself that it’s a bad dream.  For the next 1.5 miles after that I’ll tell myself that I’ll get back to me in just a minute after I finish working out a long division problem.  Of course, my brain will continue to bug me at increasingly higher volumes and more and more shrill tones, but I’ll simply say “one more minute, I almost have it”.  By that time the marathon will be ½ over (13 miles in) and my brain will be resigned to running the back half because turning around would be longer than going forward and will no doubt sulk in the corner for a couple of miles. 

 

By then we should be coming up to the Westpark railroad overpass—the site of the beginning of the end in the 05 marathon.  That should get my brain back on board.  From there on out it’ll likely be a team effort with the brain picking up more of the effort as the body begins to wear out.

 

The good news is that to make up for the deceit I served up in the beginning of the run, I’ll have flood my brain with beer.  The better news is that to celebrate finishing the marathon, I’ll have to flood my brain with beer.  That’s a 2 for 1 celebration, there, mister.