Dear Diary,
It's Monday, and i'm in Boston, and Sweet Baboo just left for his shuttle to the start line.
I've know people who have gone to races as spectators and been inspired to try harder. Honestly, after my first sprint triathlon, that's never happened to me. When I tried for harder, longer, faster (mostly longer, because faster requires a lot of discipline and hard work and remember, I. am lazy.) my trying was because of a race *I* had completed and, after collapsing into a nearby grassy knoll or into a bratwurst or into a lake, while floating with a beer (or piece of pizza, or ice cream, whatever) and savouring the moment of accomplishment i would think to myself, "I wonder what else I can do?"
The finish line, that's what I'm all about. It's why I have two (and in August, three) masters degrees. I like the idea of having done something that not a lot of people have done. I also like being able to eat all I want.
The result is that I'm fit, for my age. My doctor adores me because I'm one of the few that actually does what I'm supposed to do. The recent employee screening I had at New Job confirmed it. My sitting up, not resting, and slightly annoyed pulse rate was 60. Even though I do eat to excess, when I'm at home, I eat only lean meats, whole grains, and last fall I decided I would no longer drink alcohol (mostly because of my hideous genetics--in late 2006 my father became the sixth family member who got drunk and shot himself in the head).
For some Who. Is lazy., I picked an odd pastime. Running is the antipathy of lazy. It's hard. It makes me sweat--ew. It makes me smell bad. It's seriously cut into my vanity; I can either wash my long, unbleached hair hair twice per week, or wash my short, highlighted hair every day: I can't do both, and having my hair its natural color depresses me. I am that vain. So, I have short highlighted hair now because if I run, I have to wash my hair.
But being in Boston has inspired me. I'm just by the anticipation of Baboo's finish. I love marathons. Yes, they are hard, but they're generally over with in time for a nap and supper.
So. What does this mean? It means if I want to do Boston, I have to get faster.
I did my first marathon in January 2007, in 5:59. Back then, the emphasis was on being comfortable. I didn't do speed work, because it's hard. Not terribly worried about speed, I slowly whittled my time down to my current PR, run on a flat course on a cloudy cool day at sea level: 4:47, 4 years later. In 2007, I did my first ironman in 17:19. I took over an hour off that time when I finished my second ironman 9 months later.
I don't know how fast I could be, but I know that I've been surprised by what I've been able to pull off off just by putting my fork down and heading for a run. Or, by actually following a training plan.
At my current age, i have to do a marathon in 4:00 to be allowed to try to sign up for Boston. Eek. That means at least 47 minutes needs to be shaved off my best marathon time to qualify.
That means sticking to a training plan again.
That means being un-lazy.
That means being disciplined.
Running to work?
Running home from work (all uphills)
Wearing my hair in a pony tail most of the time.
Eating less fried chicken.
Working one job, instead of two 3/4 jobs.
Will I pull it off? Who knows? I won't cry if I don't. It's another journey.
Okay. Time to get to work!
...
