With my last 20 miler neatly tucked away in my back pocket, it’s time to turn my attention to the ALL IMPORTANT BOSTON MARATHON GOALS. (Back up and reread this with a booming, echoing voice. You may add a cymbal crash at the end if you desire).
I’ve been vacillating (word score = 10 points!) between setting ambitious, realistic, or amphibious goals for quite awhile. What to do? Really, I’m just happy to be here (there). Do I kill myself running the race of my life in the most prestigious marathon venue? Do I ‘enjoy the moment’ and run a respectable race – for me – and take in the scene? Do I somehow set a goal involving water that, really, has no place here?
I’ve decided to set my goals to match my approach to training.
Therefore, I vow to complain about winter the entire 26.2.
Seemingly, that’s all I’ve done the last few months anyhow.
Of course, that’s not my real goal. I’m being a Jokey McLaughsalot. And one thing I know about you, my reader, is that you appreciate my seriousness. You stop by for wisdom, guidance, and edification (word score = 12 pts). Running must be serious to me. I do it a lot. I also express my dissatisfaction a lot with other drivers but so far have not set any goals in that arena.
Without further adieu, here are my 2008 Boston Marathon goals in all their mundane goodness:
Time Goal: 3:25
I think I can do better than that but I’m scared of the courses hilly terrain. The Newton Hills and the final drive up Heartbreak Hill has me terrified. Of course, I’m probably blowing it way out of proportion. I’m imagining a scene where runners are dropping by the dozens to the chorus of snapping calf muscles. Bandages are being wrapped around ankles, hamstrings, heads. Families are weeping and holding (word score = -5 pts could have used ‘cradling’ here) their loved ones unconscious heads in their laps. A few are crawling up the hill on bloody stumps of knees as the ghost of Dick Beardsley stands on top taunting them and shooting lasers from his GU fueled laser gun. (I know Dick Beardsley isn’t dead. Play along alright?).
I don’t think I’m in Bayshore 2007 3:12 shape. More like 3:20 shape on a flat course. I’m adding +5 minutes for the Beardsley Ghost.
Performance Goal: No freakin’ cramping issues!!!!
The last two marathons have been derailed by the stubborn calves. (Big props to me for not making a lame reference to cattle in the street here. I could have. It would have been easy.) I’m about to have a cow if it continues (ch-ching!). I miss the good old days when I would start a marathon, get increasingly tired, bitter, hallucinogenic, suicidal, and, finally, triumphant. The body would work together to get me to the finish. I don’t know why or when the calves developed a separate agenda. They need to get on board though and quick or I’m threatening to pull a Rocky (“Go ahead, cut me. Take the calves out so I can continue.") Rocky didn’t have his calves taken out. You know what I mean.
So, there you go. You’ve learned a little something today and are probably pretty happy to have stopped by to see ol’ Nitmos. You’ve learned:
- My Boston Marathon goals.
- You can make any name funny by making the first name silly and the last name a restatement of the first name with a "Mc" preceding it.
- That Dick Beardsley is a ghostly runner slaying monster that stalks Heartbreak Hill with a laser gun. And he's dead (not really).
Every runner needs a motivation. Mine is a certain 2nd place finisher from the legendary 1982 Boston Marathon. The picture below is tucked into my bathroom mirror where I’m working to develop my Eye of the Tiger.
I can see you taunting me, threatening me with your evil gaze.
The Running Lamintor had an excellent post recently on running schizoprenia. Check it out.
Vanilla reminds us that running shops offering free "Gait Analysis" may just be pimping a gateway drug.