I’ve got a week’s worth of reality under my belt now — kids back at school, husband back at work, running is more structured and less lollygagging for the first time in months — and it feels good.
I am 100% in favor of the regular (and built-in) break(s) to facilitate growth — physical, mental, whatever you need — and at least for me anyway, I know the break “worked” when I find myself back into the thick of things and feel more excitement and anticipation than fatigue (or dread, if I’m being honest). I am prone to grinding myself down into vapor, so remembering to take a few to reboot and recharge isn’t something that comes naturally; I have a feeling that many of my friends share my tendency. (This is where training plans help me to function better in my life, beyond just telling me what and how to run every day).
It’s January — a new month, a new decade, new year new you and what not — but I think there’s something special about the beginning of training, regardless of when it happens (middle of June? end of March? January 1? sure and yes please to all of the above!). There’s so much opportunity ahead of us and decisions that we will have to make each and every day, week after week, month after month, that will hopefully compound and help us to ultimately accomplish The Big Thing on The Big Day.
What’s nice, nay, excellent, about it is that your Big Thing and Big Day can look completely different from mine, and we can both still be successful. Maybe that’s stating the obvious, but I dig the positive vibes that naturally arise when people are working together toward a common goal, even if the actual goal is different for everyone.
Extrapolating the future based on seven days’ worth of training isn’t exactly a wonderful use of my time because hell if I know anything, right? At any rate though, I can say that ending my first week back, and beginning my second, with eager anticipation for what is in store is really, really refreshing.
I suppose March is as good a time as any to (hopefully) resume writing regularly, dare I say even predictably, in this space. It’s the same ol’ song and dance with me: I have a lot of ideas for topics but limited time (don’t we all), but when push comes to shove, when the opportunity to write arises, I choose to do other things. Sometimes I wonder if I were to make some sort of writing “schedule,” as in new post every Wednesday!, for example, then maybe I’d feel more compelled to share my musings on a more predictable basis … and then, alas, the wind blows a different direction, and my mind changes. C’est la vie.
So, March. 2019. Looking back, it was my intention to write a 2018 year-end summary, an annual report, recounting the year’s travails and successes, but eventually, disinterest to reflect and navel-gaze won out; this is why I’m not much of a journaler. Suffice it to say that 2018 was pretty awesome in the “inspiring great admiration, apprehension, or fear” denotation of the word. Having a stroke at the ripe age of 34, without any warning or any risk factors, has a good way of shaking your soul for a while thereafter and fundamentally challenging how you view life and its minutiae, as well as reminding you to be even more grateful for every breath you get to take and mile you get to run. (Related: Megan and David Roche’s The Happy Runner hits on this subject hard, and I have a book report about it already written in my head that I’d like to share). Ultimately — fortunately — life resumed, as though nothing ever happened on 2/4, and in the rest of 2018, I ran a couple (disappointing) marathons, countless other race distances, my first Wharf to Wharf (earning that top 100 jacket), and about 2,020 miles before taking time off after CIM.
Three months into 2019, I think I can say with certainty that my running is better than where it was this time last year, though still being challenged differently. For the first time in a few years, I’ve decided to train for a spring marathon (Mountains to Beach, Memorial Day weekend), which allowed Coach Lisa and me to begin “lightly” training in January and February. Originally, my plan was to pace the 3:35 marathoners at Modesto at the end of March first, before going all-in for MTB training, and then Old Man Winter, or Mother Nature, or The Many Bugs With Which My Children Come Into Contact threw a hearty wrench in my plans, leaving me sick for four solid weeks and missing four long runs in six weeks’ time. As much as I can recall, I missed about 15-20 days of training in February, which is basically like the entire month. Damn. No more pacing gig — I did the responsible thing and bowed out — so here we are, beginning of March, with about 12 weeks ‘til MTB. Let’s roll.
My schedule is a bit prohibitive between now and MTB, which means that I’ll likely only really race once (SV Half) before the big day, but I’m confident that we’ll be able to make it work. In the interim, non-running life is hoppin’ as always between the girls and their stuff, C and his, and that of our family, so some days it feels like the victory is simply fitting in the run in the first place. It’s a good challenge to have and a delicious one to conquer.
I’m not sure if I have the interest right now to post monthly summaries and training recaps as I did in 2018, but hey, if the people want it, I’ll try to deliver (related: soliciting writing prompts… send ‘em over, por fa’).
Training cycles are always adventures in their own rite, and I think we’re about to embark on a good one.
Postscript:
If you like to read, there’s a lot of great stuff out there right now. Here’s my end of 2018/beginning of 2019 book list so far, nearly all of which I’d recommend: The Happy Runner (review forthcoming); The Incomplete Book of Running; Small Fry; Running is My Therapy; Never Give Up, Never Give In; Dopesick; My Year of Rest and Relaxation (it was terrible); Beautiful Boy; Atomic Habits; Maid; Tweak; Futureface; Becoming. There’s a lot of running lit coming out in the next couple months, too, most of which looks excellent.