NYC Marathon Train is Busy Training

So, have you all been behaving since I’ve been gone over the last MONTH?  Yes, I haven’t posted in five weeks.  Missed me?  The Olympics have come and gone since then.  Quick recap #1:  Bolt is still fast.   Phelps can still swim.   American women are still pretty good at soccer (much to the inspiration of my filly.)  Also, Ian has posted three times (?!?) since my last post (though it appears he has returned to the safety of his group home now.)

When I last left you, I mentioned that I take so much vacation because I earn so much vacation.  I was pretty snarky about it, in fact.  Rest assured, I don’t earn that much vacation.  My employer would probably say I don’t "earn" any vacation but they are contractually bound to provide the days that they do, God bless ‘em (and state laws).  The fact is that I got caught up in the summer lazies where writing a blog post just seemed like too. much. work. 

But I have been running.  Oh, I’m always running.   Who needs a blog for motivation and accountability?  Probably the same recreational amateur runners that are hiring other recreational amateur runners as coaches, I guess.  Nope, I run and that never changes no matter how much I post.

I haven’t raced all year.  Wow, unbelievable.  That streak will be ending soon.  The Dances with Dirt 100k team relay is a month away.  Then, the BIG EVENT FOR 2102: the New York City Marathon! 

Training for a marathon is like boarding a train.  It pulls from the station slowly but then it gathers steam and starts barreling down the tracks uncontrollably.  Just hang on and hope it doesn’t flip you off over a ravine Tony Scott style*.  Days go by, mileage increases, toe nails blacken, gauntness appears in the bathroom mirror….and it ain’t gonna stop until the train reaches its destination on November 4^th in Central Park.

It has taken me awhile to get my body back in shape this season.  I’m just now starting to see the times and distances I expect.  Maybe it’s because I’m 41?  Maybe it’s because of the unnatural heat this summer?  Maybe it’s because I need a coach?  Maybe it’s because I downloaded this Vampire Weekend album to my iPod on a whim and then listened as it systemically destroyed a run with its odd syncopated beats?  Weird shit.  I didn’t know if I was listening to calypso-disco or goth-necrophilia.  Ever want to rip the ear buds out of your ear out of frustration while cranking some mile repeats?**  I returned to the safety of some Social Distortion at the very next break.

The long run train is in the 14-15 mile range now.  After a step back long run this weekend, we’ll move along to a nice 17 miler along the Leelanau Traverse City-to-Suttons-Bay trail over Labor Day.  I love this run.  It winds through the country up along the West Traverse Bay peninsula near Madonna’s Dad’s wine farm.  His grapes are fresh and unspoiled.  I like to touch them so they are touched for the very first time.  And when I say “grapes” this is not a euphemism I actually mean grapes.  If I was talking about Madonna's Dad's euphemistic grapes, I would probably have used 'raisins' instead.  Somehow, her Dad failed to cash in on the obvious marketing crossover of cone-shaped wine bottles.  Missed opportunity?  I think so.  Tsk tsk.

Meanwhile, when I’m not hanging onto the NYC train, I’m resting aching muscles along the edge of a soccer pitch somewhere in middle mitten Michigan.***

Quick recap #2:  I’m training for a marathon.  I’m watching copious amounts of youth soccer.  I’m ragging on amateur running coaches.  Heck, I might even end this post with a cliché “Happy Trails”.

Yup, the more things change around here the more they stay the same.

Happy trails.

*Too soon?

**Do they make black eye liner that won’t run under heavy sweating?  Or moisture wicking black combat boots?

***The colt is on his high school soccer team now.  Yes, I have a high school aged kid.  How did that happen?  Incidentally, they won their first game of the season a few days ago by scoring a goal with ONE SECOND remaining on the clock.  We, the parents, felt like we should riot or, at least, burn something in the bleachers but no one had a lighter.  Another missed opportunity...