Hey, I got me another great idea. I’m full of them. How’s about I contact my friends at the
B.A.A. (Boston Athletic Association) and see if we can change the location of
the event to the Paint Creek Trail about a mile from my house? Because we are so tight, they might consider
it. Nice and flat. Slag.
Birds chirping. Frogs singing
their songs in the marshy spots. Trees
and Paint Creek winding its way through here and there. It would be great! Sure there might be a teeny issue with the
lack of parking and port-a-johns for thirty-six thousand people, but concessions
sometimes have to be made for the greater good.
No?
Well then, I got another one. How’s about I run the thing “by proxy”
because I sure do love running on this trail…
I have missed it. The last time I
ran its lovely miles was December 14th. I know that because it was the first day of
this blog. It was covered with snow
then, now springtime is springing up all along the path. It’s very strange to do all my training elsewhere
as this trail has always been the primo mainstay of my marathon preparations of
the past. It’s kind of interesting how I’ve
sort of come full circle and am seeing it again at the end of my training.
 |
| From under the Gunn Road bridge |
All is well, only a little tweaking
of the knee but we will ignore it like I don’t even have a knee. I tell you, tapering really rejuvenates the
legs; I wanted to fly! I had to keep
telling myself to go slow, easy run, nice and easy. I averaged about an eight-forty pace, which
makes me happy and makes me remember that I actually really love to run.
My hubby rode his bike from home and
caught up with me around mile three and I told him during the last mile that it
can get kind of discouraging because although I was feeling great, the mind
starts calculating that I will have to run that distance two
more times plus two and a
quarter miles. Yuck. He then starts
with the kind of reassurance talk that will forever label him as my rock
man. “You can do this. You are running fast now but you know you can
keep a nine-thirty pace all day long.
You can just stop and walk if you have to. It will be completely different there, with
all the people cheering for you…”
He has a voice that is like a saving
balm that soaks down right to my innards. I don’t want to tell him too many times how awesome
he is because I don’t want him getting too conceited. Also with loose comments like that I can lose
my upper hand, and I might actually owe him something. God forbid it isn’t always about me.
Hey! Hey, I got another really great idea. This is the last one, I promise. I think it would be great if my buds in the
B.A.A. would let Jim bring his bike along and ride beside me through the whole
twenty-six straight into downtown Boston.
He won’t get in anyone’s way; he would just be there for my moral
support. Give me bananas and tell me, “Everything
is awesome!” No? But
I need him!!
 |
| I am a real looker. Wait! I'm eye-less!! |
Anyways, a
huge thank-you to God today. We did some
glorious yard work; I am in heaven when I can putter along in my perennial
gardens, and we spent time in the sunshine. But right now, front and center is this race. Oh hey, did I happen to mention that I am
running in THE Boston Marathon? The
excitement is building like a million butterflies having a field day in my
stomach the last couple days. I do my
deep breathing techniques, kind of like Lamaze and a round of gut-busting
contractions, and tell myself once again, “It will be okay. Everything is going to be okay…”
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