I wake up this morning fifteen pounds over my running weight, heaving my lead-weighted legs forward when I run, and thinking about hauling the whole idea of running out to the trash. I'm roughly up to five miles these days, and that's pushing it. I have no charted plan, no training schedule, a busy work life, baseball coaching duties, and no clue how, in 118 days, I'll run again in the Twin Cities Marathon. And, I'm not one to forget that I walked the last six miles of my last attempt. Ugh.
But then I've got my wife Nancy and her wacky couple of friends and world entourage in Australia who are aiming to (1) run a 3:15 marathon in three weeks, and (2) managing to run only a few months after hip surgery.
I think maybe I can probably kind of do it, sort of. I think.
2 comments:
DOOOOOD!
sucked in!
welcome. remember when we were younger and coaches would tell you to have a running journal? no? yeah, well, you're older than i am. and married to a medievalist who probably dabbles in the mystical and has sapped your memory for her powers.
BUT...
you'll find that keeping the blog is easier than the journal. put it all down in writing and reeeeejoice in your accomplishments. we'll be watching and cheering you on.
(i just burped.)
118 days is ... divide by 7 .... 17 weeks and most programs won't start until 16 weeks and even better still 12 weeks ... this gives you a whole 6 days to build a base or even longer
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