Boston or Bahama Mamas?
Lately I’ve been daydreaming about drinks with umbrellas in them and pools with swim-up bars near beaches with turquoise waters while I plod the many miles away in the cold.
I’ve got just 12 weeks to go until Boston …
Truthfully, it’s not really a drink I’m craving. (I’m a teetotaler most of the time.)
I want what that drink symbolizes for me: completion, success, embracing some much deserved R&R.
Maybe I’m feeling this way because of Saturday’s windy run.
Or maybe it’s because it’s January in Colorado and blustery outside.
Or maybe it’s because on some training days my tired legs feel as watered down as a TGIF margarita.
It’s probably a combination of all of the above.
Whatever the cause, the effect and outcome is the same. I lust for a day soon where I can swap the lactic acid coursing in my veins for the laziness of Captain Morgan’s in pineapple juice.
Yes, I’m glad I’m doing my Boston training and I like many aspects of it. There are just times, like last week, when I’m not running strong, it feels punishing. That fatigue gets compounded by the obligation I feel to complete my virtual log to Beantown.
Panic also set in when I took some extra, unscheduled recovery time.
What if I can’t make my Denver to Boston mileage goal? Do I give up? Or do I rename the blog and run a shorter distance to a closer East Coast city?
Somehow “New York of Botox?” or “Philadelphia or Botox?” doesn’t capture the same je na sais quoi.
Just when I thought panic would get the better of me, today’s run (9.25 miles) was a turning point. I felt like I got spring back into my step.
I have decided to make some modifications to my training and build in more rest. I’m going to alternate my weeks — running four days one week, five days the other. I’ll throw in extra mileage when I can in the form of more warm-up and cool-down miles.
My concern is staying healthy and injury-free. Otherwise I risk not only “Boston or Botox?” but the marathon itself.
Run smarter, not harder — that’s my motto, and keep my focus on the big picture.
If I can do that, I believe I’ll still make my Denver to Boston mileage goal.
When I finally cross the finish line on Bolyston Street I’m going to celebrate afterward with something colorful, festive and fruity.
Something yummy I can slurp happily with a pretty umbrella in it.
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Aging is inevitable, but growing old is a choice. Lace up your shoes, and let’s go!
MIleage today: 9.25; Denver to Boston miles logged: 1,168.75; Miles left to go: 601.25.
Thank you so much for sharing your feelings during your run. I was just wondering yesterday if everyone have the same thoughts during certain days. You really made my day.
Oh, yes, some days are diamonds; some are cut glass.