Everything in threes, but before the third comes the second and after one comes number two. As a logical extension to my first goal of crossing the start line, my second goal is to cross the finish line. It sounds like a simple goal, going hand in hand with the motto of "finish what you start." However, a lot can happen in 26 miles and 385 yards.
A lot has happen in the last two years and four months.
This is going to get pretty sappy, and my story is a terrible cliche, but it's my story, and that is what is unique about it. On 29 April 2011, my son was born. It was a long, stressful, exhausting, glorious event. There are few things that I have known that I have wanted in my life. Getting married and having children have been the two strongest (desires/needs/events? I'm terrible with words). The kidlet was born, and shortly thereafter he started crawling, then waddling, then running all over the place; and I was exhausted. Just absolutely worn out all the time. I had to fix this.
Also, I turned 30 that year - which didn't help things.
In high school, I ran cross-country and track. I competed in a pair of 10k <a href="http://waucondaparks.org/wauconda-fest/wauconda-fest-5k-10k-race/">local races</a>, finishing with terrible times. I don't really know why, but running sounded like a great idea at the time. I signed up for the 2012 Rock and Roll Chicago Half-Marathon, and training began in late 2011. I started with a Couch-to-5k program (I don't remember which one, but they are great programs, and the perfect place to start). Once I got to the point where I could actually run the three miles, I went to the <a href="http://universalsole.com/">local running store</a> and replaced my 13 year old shoes (leftover from high school). Winter hit, which kept me inside, but at least I was going to the gym and doing some weight training. Then came spring and summer, with more training, a terrible case of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plantar_fasciitis">plantar fasciitis</a>, and a 2:14:38 half-marathon - no where close to the two-hour goal I was aiming for. I couldn't walk for a day, I could only hobble for the next two days after that, and was fully a month before everything stopped hurting. It was a miserable, awful, never-going-to-do-it-again experience. I'm not sure how many runners quit at that point, but I almost did.
A month later, a friend of mine wanted to do the 2012 Hot Chocolate 15k. She's not really a runner, but after complaining all summer about not having a running partner, I wanted to support someone else getting into running. The race was terrible. My time was fantastic, but the race itself was awful. I don't think I'll ever do another Hot Chocolate race again, and probably avoid RAM Racing events in general. Not being injured the next day was a nice feeling, and I actually got back out on the road that week and ran some more. It felt nice. I was comfortable at this distance. I could do six miles or so without much effort, and I knew I could push myself to ten miles. This was alright.
Then I saw a marathon tattoo.
The wife and I took the dog and kid to the dog beach. On the way back, we stopped at the Redbox to pick out a movie for the night. There was a woman in front of us with a tattoo combining the Chicago flag and "26.2" on the back of her ankle. I was a little jealous of the tattoo, and almost immediately had an idea for how I'd improve it. A week later, I was still thinking about that tattoo, and how great it would look on my calf. A week after that, I found myself looking up marathon training programs. A week after that, a co-worker caught wind of it, and proceeded to pester me for the next three months to sign up for the Chicago Marathon. On 19 February 2013, I was one of many tens of thousands of people that helped crash the Chicago Marathon registration page.
There I was, with a registration confirmation, a tattoo to earn, a new membership to CARA, and registration to three other races (Lakefront 10 Miler, Soldier Field 10 Miler, RnR Half). This was going to happen, and I only had 236 days to get ready for it.
In two days, all that time will have passed. Cross the finish line means I can call myself a marathoner.
It also means I get to go get a tattoo.

A Marathon in Three Parts, Goal Number Two

Goals are good, goals are great, goals help keep you straight.
I have fifteen days until I run my first marathon.
Taper depression is a thing.
Randomness.
For any given race, I have three goals that I strive for. As with any trio of related goals, I keep one as a near guarantee of success, another as a probable success, and a third that would be nice, but isn't as important as the other two. My first goal is always: Cross the Start Line. Shortly after 7:30, on 13 October 2013, I will be crossing the starting line for my first marathon. There will be roughly 10,000 people in front of me, and approximately 35,000 people behind me. I still need to pause and soak that in every time I think about it. Forty-five thousand people.
Getting to the start line is certainly a significant goal in and of itself. It will have been 18 weeks of formal training, building on a year of self-training. I have logged over 600 miles this year; a vast increase over the 100 or so I ran last year. Countless hours have been spent reading and researching about training programs, injury prevention, injury treatments, diet, carbohydrate loading, protein portions, energy gels, hydration methods, foam rolling, split tracking… the list goes on and on. I have probably spent more time thinking about running, actually running, or recovering from running than anything else since February 19th (when I received my registration confirmation - for the third time). It has certainly been a stressful strain on all parts of my life. I have had much less free time to spend with my son, and thus have had to defer a lot of parental duties onto my wife. I've missed being able to put him to bed most nights, because I have to be up early running. As of late, I haven't been able to chase him around as much, because I'm limping around on sore legs, hips, and/or knees (which is terrible ironic, since I started running because I was out of shape and had trouble keeping up with him). My work has suffered as I've been distracted with all the reading and researching. My social life has plummeted to nearly nothing, what with spending most evenings running and my Friday nights cut short due to early Saturday runs.
It has been a long journey, and now that I am in the final weeks, I am keeping a close eye on my mood. The endorphin that was released through 16 weeks of pushing my body is going to come in a small trickle, and runners have experienced extreme depression in the weeks leading up to the marathon. Being grumpy and irritable (different from normal, how?), depressed and extra stressed is something that I want to be aware of. And rambling - apparently rambling is also a part of this because that seems to be all that I am capable of doing. Just a stream of words typed out? ok? this isn't being productive.
Cross the Start Line
On October 13th, I'll get out of bed at 4:30, follow the same morning routine that I've followed each Saturday morning for the last 16 weeks, and roughly three hours later complete goal number one.

Rovani's Sandbox

Blog Posts - Page 16

A Marathon in Three Parts, Goal Number Two

A Marathon in Three Parts, The First Goal