Waiting

Right now, today, I am waiting.

I'm waiting to hear if my application for the Boston Marathon will place me in the top 20,000 or so applicants. According to Internet Chatter, it probably will. But still, until you hear it from the BAA, it doesn't count.

I'm also waiting for the next 2 weeks to pass to bring me to the starting line of the Chicago Marathon. It's going to be a blast, as most of my Team Type 1 teammates will also be racing.

I'm still fine tuning my goal for the race and will decide based on whether or not I get into Boston and how the weather turns out that day. With my PR of 3:17:30, I'd like to go for a sub 3:15. But IF I don't get into Boston and if it's a perfect marathon day, I might be persuaded to go after a 3:10.

Right now, I'm thinking I'll split the uprights and go for 7:20 miles, which is about a 3:12. But that's just what I'm thinking while I'm waiting.

Being in the taper, of course, means worrying while your waiting. My foot feels weird today, which is odd since I only ran 20 miles this past weekend, when most of my weekends are more than 30. But that's part of the taper game, too; the worrying. I'm sure it'll pass. And if doesn't, hey, there's Advil.

Of all the things I hate, I hate waiting the most. I nearly jumped into a local 5k this weekend, simply because racing isn't waiting. In fact, it's pretty much the opposite of waiting. But after last week, I was dead-dog tired, and instead used the weekend to recharge with tons of sleep. Waiting is easier when you're sleeping.

Post-Chicago, I'm not sure what my plans are. There is talk of a December marathon with Team Type 1, and I'm totally up for that. At the same time, this entire year has been solid training for me. Mentally, I feel 100% prepared for a December marathon, but I'm a little worried about these creaky bones, so I'm thinking that after Chicago, I might shut myself down for one solid week, just to heal. Or maybe not, because healing looks - and feels - a lot like waiting.

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