We are now entering “longest run of my life” territory. The longest race I’ve run to date is a half marathon (13.1 miles). Up until last weekend that was the longest distance I’d covered, too. We’re over the halfway mark of marathon training. The marathon is less than 8 weeks away. From here on in, all long runs, save for cut back weeks, will be at least 13 miles.
I love marathon training. You know, overall. But at some point, during every run (or at least every run over 6 miles) I hate it.
I think summer in the Mid-Atlantic is largely to blame. It’s really hot. It’s really humid. I rarely get to the ideal state of “running auto-pilot” because there is a persevering discomfort in sweating this g-damn much. I’m running slowly. (More slowly than I usually do.) I forget to bring things. My hair tie breaks.
But those things are temporary. My negative feelings dissipate when I click my Garmin off to end the run. By the time I’m back in my apartment (or better, grabbing a post-run iced coffee), I’m usually smiling and happy no matter how many curses I spat under my breath moments before. So more than anything l love marathon training.
I signed up for this small town race in March, a testament to my neurosis that I felt the need to commit to a race that most definitely wouldn’t sell out (fewer than 90 people ran it) five months in advance. The first 75 sign ups were promised a tech-t, and I love a good race shirt. I was #3 to sign up. Awkward?
This 8-mile race was run by the Berkshire Running Center, a sneaker store in Pittsfield, Massachusetts that I’ve never been to. It started and ended at Guido’s, at high-end supermarket that I love in Great Barrington, not too far from Matt’s parents’ house. View Post