in pursuit of victory

I haven't been blogging much - my training is a little bit on autopilot. Nothing earth-shattering, no epiphanies happening on Saturday mornings. It's not very interesting to contemplate the same old same old.

I did go to the shop a week or two ago to adjust my program. I had two main concerns. First, I want to run a half-marathon at the end of April, and I needed to add on the appropriate recovery and training weeks after the race. Second, I'm having trouble getting my midweek mileage in. Six miles on a Wednesday just isn't going to happen. I've been trying to run more days, and many days I was waking up to run a few miles in the dark and cold, and then slogging out a few on the treadmill. Cynthia immediately unburdened me, and put X's through my 6 mile midweek runs. She told me that she didn't start training seriously until her youngest was 10. And it takes her a fraction of the time to run 6 miles. Apparently, the demands of parenting don't discriminate based on how many times you have won the Marine Corps Marathon. By the time Cynthia and I were gabbing about kids and parenting, Mark was able to join in.

Can I tell you how humbling and inspiring it is to have the full attention of two of the sport's greats? I'm barely even a middle of the pack runner, and at that moment, I felt like my training program was every bit as important as anyone with an outside chance of winning a major race. And you know what? It is. To Mark and to Cynthia. To me.

Running has the great gift of meeting you exactly where you are, yet always presenting a greater challenge, no matter your level. My goals may not be as speedy as as an elite athlete, but they are the goals of an athlete nonetheless. My 10:15 stretch goal pace for the 10 miler is no less significant to me than the eventual winners' will be to them. I'm proud to be part of a sport that has room for everyone, and room for everyone to grow, stretch, and be challenged.