Run, Run, Run
In lovely Lowell, MA, it's going to be a lovely 54 degrees today--perfect marathoning weather! But at the moment, it's a mere 34 degrees, which begs the age-old running question: shorts or tights? Wear shorts and I'll freeze my ass off for the first hour. Wear tights and by the end I'm a sweaty mess.
I've been really casual about this marathon. For one, it's local so there's no disruption to my life. The family isn't even coming out--Doodles has religious school and after they're all going to the birthday party of the daughter of one of Adam's closest buddies. I'm up, I'm about to drive to Starbucks to pick up a friend, and then head to the marathon. I won't even have anyone at the end of the race, because I have just one friend running the full--everyone else is running the half so will be done hours before me. It's not like I've done a zillion marathons--this will be my fourth--but it just doesn't seem like any big deal. I kind of feel like I'm just going out for another long run.
...except that I had these weird dreams last night. Someone mentioned the course can get really thinned out. New York had 45,000 runners. Miami had 10,000. Baystate has 2,500 total for the full and half. So I dreamed that all the runners were pretty spread out so I had to follow the path myself. Except the marking was this faded yellow chalk line down the street, and of course I got lost. And just like the night before my first NYC marathon, I dreamed that at some point I stopped to hang out and chat and relax and then I realized after a bit, "Oh, shit! I'm in the middle of a marathon! I've got to go!" And off I went to keep running.
So I guess I'm feeling a little more tense than I thought. I have no idea what a smart pace would be for me--I really feel confident I can do under 10-minute miles (my basic goal), but how far under? I don't, don't, don't want to go out too fast and hit the wall at 20 miles, like I did in the first NYC race. But then again, it's also a sucky feeling to finish and think, "There's still some juice left in me. I could have spent more."
Well, we'll find out for sure what I can do, I guess, in about six hours. In the meantime, Run, Mommy, Run. Oh, and I'm wearing the shorts.
I've been really casual about this marathon. For one, it's local so there's no disruption to my life. The family isn't even coming out--Doodles has religious school and after they're all going to the birthday party of the daughter of one of Adam's closest buddies. I'm up, I'm about to drive to Starbucks to pick up a friend, and then head to the marathon. I won't even have anyone at the end of the race, because I have just one friend running the full--everyone else is running the half so will be done hours before me. It's not like I've done a zillion marathons--this will be my fourth--but it just doesn't seem like any big deal. I kind of feel like I'm just going out for another long run.
...except that I had these weird dreams last night. Someone mentioned the course can get really thinned out. New York had 45,000 runners. Miami had 10,000. Baystate has 2,500 total for the full and half. So I dreamed that all the runners were pretty spread out so I had to follow the path myself. Except the marking was this faded yellow chalk line down the street, and of course I got lost. And just like the night before my first NYC marathon, I dreamed that at some point I stopped to hang out and chat and relax and then I realized after a bit, "Oh, shit! I'm in the middle of a marathon! I've got to go!" And off I went to keep running.
So I guess I'm feeling a little more tense than I thought. I have no idea what a smart pace would be for me--I really feel confident I can do under 10-minute miles (my basic goal), but how far under? I don't, don't, don't want to go out too fast and hit the wall at 20 miles, like I did in the first NYC race. But then again, it's also a sucky feeling to finish and think, "There's still some juice left in me. I could have spent more."
Well, we'll find out for sure what I can do, I guess, in about six hours. In the meantime, Run, Mommy, Run. Oh, and I'm wearing the shorts.
Labels: sporty mom
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