Frank Shorter was right.

Shorter is a marathon legend and the last American to ever win an Olympic gold in the marathon. He once said that you aren't ready to do another marathon until you forget the pain of the previous marathon.

Right now my memory is a little too good. About one year ago I was burned out on all things running and truly thought I had run my last marathon. The combination of getting fat and out of shape with going to Kenya made me change my mind and set my sights on Boston 2009. Yet again, I got sucked in to another marathon.

I'm not sure why I keep doing this. I have somehow managed to do 8 of these things without really liking the distance very much. Marathons aren't really my strength as an event, yet I eschew opportunities to lower my times in the 5k, 10k, etc in order to plod along for 3+ hours. I also get really tired of how they just shred my body up. Finally, if you have a bad day on a marathon, you can't just pick up and run your best next week. You are in for another training cycle before you can make it up.

I achieved just about everything I ever wanted to achieve when I qualified for Boston the first time and then subsequently did the race in 2006. Then I got the idea that I could get under 3 hours in the Richmond Marathon. After that awful race, I felt like I needed to redeem myself in the next Richmond Marathon. That was the one that occurred a year ago. Ran a decent race, but killed any joy I ever had for running (as I mentioned previously).

Now I find myself registered for Boston without a shred of eagerness for the race. As it stands now, I think I've made a donation to the Boston Athletic Association, as they won't refund and I don't think I'll be going. There's a little hesitation as my friends David and Becca have qualified and we were all going to run together. However, this is my freakin' recreational pursuit and I'm tired of it turning in to a job.

Well, I guess the silver lining is that I have time to change my mind since I can't ditch the registration. I'll train for the shorter races (C-ville 10-miler, Clyde's 10k, Capital Hill Classic) and then switch if I feel incline to do the marathon.

Why can't I be normal and like golf like everyone else my age?

Running slower to get fast.......

This is one of the many running paradoxes I've discovered in my attempts to lower my pedestrian PR's. For me, I don't do well unless I run a lot of miles. I also don't recover from workouts very well, so if I want to be at all sharp, my easy days need to be easy so that the workouts can be hard. Fortunately, the knowledge that I need some days where I'm simply plodding along comes along at a time in my life where I could care less if I am running slow in full view of everyone in town. My newfound running humility courtesy of the following:

1) I'm older and less hung up on that crap.

2) Athletes in Action camp last summer

3) The amazing realization that people in town could give a crap how slow I am.

4) The amazing realization that people in town don't know what slow is in running terms.......or fast for that matter.

This morning's run was a pleasant slog up around Eastern Mennonite University and back. I looked amazing.

Runnin' is a mutha

Today was my first HHH (hazy, hot, humid) day of running in what promises to be many this summer. Usually, I at least meet this season with good fitness, thus better able to handle HHH. Not this year. My condensed 20 year running story is thus:

Act 1- Self-indulgent college student runs to recover from lung surgery

Act 2- Exercise Physiology grad student runs because it's the cool thing to do among his professors and student peers. "Cool" is used here with a lot of latitude since we're talking about dorks who talk about lactic acid all day. Some racing during Act 2. Most of it involves not knowing what I'm doing and posting relatively pedestrian times.

Act 3- Exercise Physiology post-doc "gets in to running" in a Runners World sort of way. That is, I start doing 40-50 miles a week, running marathons and accumulating races. Times come down, but I never can seem to do stuff like break 40 minutes for a 10k or qualify for Boston in the marathon. These aren't monumental achievements, but they seem like Everest to me at that time.

Act 4- Exercise Physiology professor goes bat-crap over running after reading "Running with the Buffaloes" by Chris Lear. Ramps mileage up to 80+ miles a week, becomes a skeleton and achieves aforementioned unreachable goals quite easily.

Act 5- Exercise Physiology professor goes really bat-crap and gets up to 90-100 miles per week. I run 2 hours a day for a while and then have a "what's this all mean?" moment after finishing the 2007 Army Ten Miler in a dissapointing 67:30. I get through the Richmond marathon (3:16:02) and then swear that I'm done running. I purposefully eat crappy food, sit around and do everything but buy an electric scooter to ride so that I don't ambulate. I gain 20 pounds and feel old.

That brings us up to speed to today, where I have decided I like being obsessed, skinny and in shape more than I like being fat, cranky and slow. I'm aiming towards the Boston Marathon 2009. Right now I jog along for 30-40 miles a week at something like 9 minute pace. Probably 10 minute pace on a bad day. I'm also 180 pounds. From personal experience, I know that I'll need to double or triple that amount of miles and get to where an easy run is normally <8 min/mile pace. I'll also need to lose at least 20 pounds and be able to do workouts in the neighborhood of 6 min pace and faster. That seems like an awful long ways away. Well, at least it beats sports cars and alcoholism for a mid-life crisis (or does it?).

55 minute shuffle today. Ran shirtless through Purcell park so that all the 'burg residents could see my jiggles.