Getting back to Boston

Nice run today, with the family involved. Sunday dawned gorgeous in central Arkansas -- zero clouds, temps in the lower 70s, just a hint of a breeze. Normally I do my Sunday recovery runs on the dreadmill, but it was just too nice not to go outside. So I got the family to come with me. We drove to the skateboard park and walked down to the quarry, about a half-mile walk. I started my run from there, going a mile and a half in each direction so as not to get too far away, while Pam and T explored the quarry. By the time I finished my 6-miler, they had made their way back to the car. Pam got some nice photos, most of which are on her Facebook page (and one of which is on mine -- my sweat stains on my shirt were, un, interesting). Legs feeling better and better. Even got (accidentally) to GMP for the last little bit of the run.

Last interval run -- 3 X 1600 at something approximating 5K pace, although at this point I'm approximating an approximation since I have no real idea what my 5K pace is. In this case I ran at 6:40 pace. Got a little confused; I forgot originally that I was supposed to do the 1600s and started out doing 6 X 600 instead. Realized during the second 600 that this was 1600s night, turned it into a 1000, then ran the last two reps as 1600s. Legs felt pretty good. Actually was not straining too much to maintain that pace, even with the TM cranked to 2% incline to simulate outdoor running. But I'm not sorry I won't be doing any more of those for a while, unless I decide in late June to start doing some serious 5K training.

 Race is close enough that I can look up the long-range forecast at accuweather.com -- low 45, high 62, clear skies. Might be a bit chilly at 7 a.m. in Oregon. In other words, darn near perfect; if there's about a 5 mph wind and a few clouds to keep me from squinting, it would be perfect. Maybe the fir trees will keep me from squinting anyway. Of course, the forecast has 11 more days to change.

Today is much more important to me than the four-mile recovery run I just finished. More important, in fact, than the marathon I'm going to run in 11 days, even if I do get that long-obsessed-over BQ.

On the afternoon of July 17, 1990, I was the first person to see my son, or at least the top of his head, as he crowned while my wife was in labor. A couple of hours later, we got to see all of him, all nine pounds plus. We had had a miscarriage prior to Tyler, and would have one after him as well, so he was the only child we would be blessed with. And he has been a blessing. A great kid. Never had to worry about if I was going to get that call from the principal that he was in detention, or from the police that he'd been picked up after going for a joyride. Main problem, in fact, has been getting him OUT of the house. He's had some health issues, and walking, never mind running, is difficult and painful for him, and will always be that way. But it makes no difference to me that he's not an athlete. He's my one and only and I'm proud of him, and I've enjoyed watching him grow and blossom, particularly after we returned to Arkansas in '06 and he got to be around his extended family much more.

Tonight, he gets his high school diploma from North Little Rock High. Honors graduate, top 10% of his class of nearly 600, winner of several academic honors, top American Government student in his class, academic scholarship recipient. It's a joyous occasion, but yet a sad one, because our little Ty-ty has grown up. Boy, has he grown up: 6-foot-5, somewhere well north of 250 lbs., size 16 shoes. He'll be in college this fall, at my alma mater, 190 miles away. It won't seem right to look in his bedroom every morning and see an empty, un-slept-in bed, or not see a stack of plates and glasses from his snacks. But he's reached the point that he's ready to fly out of the nest, as much as it pains us as his parents to let him go.

The trip to Boston on Friday is for him, too. He wanted to go there. It's fine with me; as a runner, Boston has been my goal, so I get a sneak preview of what I'll hopefully be a part of in 11 months. But my running will be a sidelight, at least until I get on the plane and go to Oregon next week. The only bad thing is, if I do BQ, he can't go with me next April because he'll be in the runup to finals for spring semester.

But there will be a few tears tonight with the cheers for my son. We love you, Tyler, and we are immeasurably proud of you.

My last treadmill run of the cycle (pardon me if I don't shed a tear). Seven miles, mostly at 8:30 pace, with 8 X 100 strides at the end. Felt strong; if my opening pace feels that easy, I'll be in good shape at Newport. Finished the 7 in less than an hour. Now I'm going to pack; my flight for Boston leaves in about 10 hours. Tomorrow night I'm in the bleachers at Fenway Park; Saturday morning I'll be running on Cape Cod. And I'm looking forward to the change in scenery, and getting ready to open a big can of BQ in nine days.

No running Friday, but boy, did I get a workout. Up at 4:30. At the airport a little after 6. Fly to Newark. Have to haul butt through the terminal to make my connecting flight; they were boarding when I got there. Fly to Boston. Stand around forever in the terminal; I can run 26 miles no problem but standing still for 15 minutes kills me. Wait for Pam's flight to arrive from Cincinnati. Stand around some more retrieving her luggage because she is in serious pain. finally get bag, catch the shuttle to the rentacar place. Stand around some more. get our car, drive into Boston and park at Government Center. Walk -- a lot. Catch a subway to near Fenway Park. Walk, and help Pam walk, to the ballpark. Have to change seats, twice, because of Pam's pain. Finally end up sitting behind the Mets' bullpen in great seats. Enjoy the game. Walk back to the subway station. Can't get all the way back to our original station because it's so late, so I have to walk about a half-mile, get the car and come back and get Pam. Then we go back to the airport and wait about an hour for Tyler. He finally arrives, we pick him up and drive to Chatham, arriving well after 2 a.m. Finally in bed at 3 a.m. Accounting for the time change, still a 22 hour day.

I've identified bike trails through Chatham and Harwich that will be good for my runs, or I can do short runs on the beach. Of course I still plan to do my dress rehearsal on part of the Boston course. It's Saturday afternoon as I write this and it's raining and 35 degrees cooler than it was yesterday in Boston. No problem. I'll get a 12-miler in this afternoon.

Well, the hay's in the barn now. I've done the work, the long slow miles, the MP miles, the strides, the intervals, the tempo runs. It's just a matter of resting, relaxing, recharging the glycogen stores and getting ready to nail one in about 160 hours in Oregon.

Seven days. After all these months, it's down to this. I'm more ready now than I was in December, that's for sure. As the football coaches say, now I just have to execute. I've got a good game plan, I've got the base built, I've worked on the speed. I just have to do what needs to be done for just under 3.5 hours next Saturday, and I will have necessitated ANOTHER change in the name of this blog.

When I started this blog last year, I thought I could break four hours, but I wasn't sure about BQ. Sasha convinced me I had it in me, but I had to make the commitment to get there -- meaning a lot more miles than I had been willing to put in to that point. Well, Mr. Pachev, I did what you said, and maybe then some, and I think I'm ready.

Today's run was on the bike path through the middle of both Chatham and Harwich, which are two neighboring towns on Cape Cod. If you look at Cape Cod on a map and see the resemblance to an arm, Chatham is the elbow; Harwich is the outer end of the triceps :) It was almost exactly a mile from our cottage to reach the bike path. I then turned east and ran into the middle of Chatham, past the airport and the high school and a bunch of boat yards (never saw the ocean, though, but saw some lakes) to the end of that path. Turned around and doubled back, then went over the line into Harwich, ran a mile or so into Harwich, doubled back again and went back to the cottage. Total time 1:51, averaging 8:29; ran the last two miles plus in sub GMP.

Good thing about this run is that it was sufficiently hilly that I had to work hard to maintain the pace, similar to what the miles in the late teens will be like in Newport, but because of fatigue, not uphills. Never ran a mile over 9:00, even early in the run when I was TRYING to run more conservatively, and if I hadn't had to wait on traffic at so many places where the trail crossed roads, I'd have probably been two minutes faster. Legs felt good, and should feel even better when I step to the line in Oregon.