Honest assessment.
I feel underconditioned. I also feel relatively strong. My brain is choosing not to resolve that contradiction. The ankle healed up well and I am genuinely grateful for that part.
The big effort at Great Seal a few weeks ago was supposed to be the foundation. Then last weekend, when I had four hours of time on feet on the schedule, I got flooded out. Much of the route runs along a river and the river had recently relocated onto the trail. The first two hours were a slog. The plan was to meet a second wave of runners and tack on another two hours, but they were a no-show, and I decided I didn’t have another two hours of solo type 2 fun in me. Called it at two. The weather had opinions. The weather won.
This past week was a taper, so hitting the miles was easy and not exactly proof of anything. I did 9 this morning with my off-season MIT crew, a small group of us whose target races don’t line up with the spring marathon cycle, keeping each other moving until marathon training picks back up or our races finally arrive. Great company. We talked about everything. First 7 miles I felt strong, then my legs started lifting a little less and cramping a little more. Could be salt. Could be hydration. Could be that I just haven’t trained enough. I finished it, but it dinged my confidence a touch. A week out is a stupid time for that to happen and also the most predictable time for that to happen.
Here’s the part I haven’t said out loud yet. I have never gone past 26 miles. I have never been on my feet longer than the 9.5 hours I logged at Great Seal. Everything beyond that on June 6th is a country I have not visited. The big fear isn’t physical, it’s mental. If the first 8 hours don’t go the way I want, I’m not sure I have the fortitude to renegotiate with myself out there in the dark. I’d like to find out I do.
So. Goals, in order of importance, no edits, this is the actual list:
- Don’t get hurt.
- Have fun.
- Have a good run. Good has many definitions.
- Finish 50K in the first 8 hours.
- Keep moving after that and see how far I can get.
- Maybe hit 100K.
That last one is a secret I’m telling on myself. 100K is well beyond what my training says I have any business attempting. 50K is the solid, achievable, lifetime distance PR I should be focused on. But the 24 hour format invites bigger questions, and I am, against all reason, asking them.
The plan is to go out at a stupidly conservative pace, run/walk/run for 8 hours, then reassess based on what’s left, what hurts, and what kind of philosophical mood I’m in. The beauty of a 24 hour race is you don’t have to make the big decisions until they make themselves.
Crew update: I never found a runner to crew for me, so it’s just Peggy, our dog Sibley, and me driving up the night before to set up camp. From everything I’ve read this is a famously friendly race and I’m trusting that I packed well enough that I don’t run into a problem only an experienced crew could solve. Peggy is bringing patience and snacks. Sibley is bringing emotional support and judgment.
Two short pub runs left on the calendar, Tuesday and Thursday, then a long week of pretending to be relaxed.
One week. Let’s see what happens.
Opinion Odyssey 