January 5, 2016 13 Comments
2015 began with one singular, driven purpose: to qualify for Boston at the Berlin Marathon. I put everything I had into the quest, attacking it with a balanced combination of aggression and caution. In addition to re-tooling my approach to training, I tried my best to avoid signing up for races just to scratch the itch. Berlin became my singular focus, and with it came a powerful, if not familiar surge of motivation. I became reacquainted with what it meant to train specifically for one event, months away. As my legs would tire during intervals, I would remind myself, this is for Berlin. As the soft tendrils of my bedsheets would threaten to keep me away from my early morning runs, I’d quietly murmur the mantra, this is for Berlin.
I hadn’t felt this committed or excited for a race since my first ultras in 2013 and my first marathon in 2009.
With a newfound thirst for success, I mapped out nine months of training, each with its own goals and milestones. In the spring, I narrowed the gap to my goal in Fargo with a 3:16 PR, and in the summer I stayed strong through warm temperatures, signs that a BQ was not only possible, but almost inevitable if I could only maintain my progress.
And maintain that progress I did. I earned PRs at the 5k (18:52), 10k (40:12), and 10-mile distances (1:06:36). I ran long runs at paces that I couldn’t believe and no run was finished without a confident smile or an overpowering enthusiasm that convinced me I was on my way to greatness. My date with the Brandenburger Tor was to be the culmination of nine months’ worth of planning, dedicated training, and execution.
And then, halfway through the Berlin Marathon, things fell apart, the center could not hold.
Fortunately, I did not follow the Yeats poem with its successor line, mere anarchy is loosed upon the world. Instead, I ate delicious food, drank full-bodied beers, took a few weeks off and then got back to what I love to do. I was concerned that Fargo had been a fluke, a magical moment of perfect confluence that I might never again replicate. So, I did what I swore I wouldn’t do all year, and impulsively signed up for another marathon.
Only seven weeks removed from Berlin, I ran a 3:17, just a minute shy of my PR, in a course with four times as much elevation change. The race didn’t get me any closer to my goal of running a marathon in all 50 states, nor was it a bucket list event on everyone’s list. Instead, it was for personal assurance, a validation of trial through fire, that I hadn’t overestimated my progress. That race showed me that I had indeed moved the chains in the right direction, that 2015 would indeed be another year of progress and improvement.
As for the actual, raw numbers? Thanks to my meticulous stat-tracking – which I learned in 2015 was unusual at best, psychotic at worst, even amongst my most diehard running friends – I know that this year I laced up 177 times for a total of 1,433 miles, or an average of 8.09 miles per session. I ran for 7 days, 18 hours, 54 minutes and 22 seconds, which means an average yearly pace of 7:49.
I know that my fastest 10th mile was at the Fort 2 Base 10 Nautical Miler (6:42), my slowest month was June (average of 8:14 per mile), it took me only 20 days to run 100 miles in August, and I placed in the top 1% of racers at 3 different races.
Will any of these stats actually help me become a better runner? Maybe. It all depends on how I use them to plan for 2016. Running goals are, pun fully intended, a moving target. Because while I didn’t achieve my goal of running under a 3:05 for the marathon and earn a Boston qualifying time, I’m not necessarily sticking squarely to that goal for the new year. Instead, I am returning to an old goal, one I did not accomplish back in 2013, and has since remained the only unsightly DNF in an otherwise clean sheet: the 50-mile distance.
It truly was another banner year, even with the surprising meltdown in Deutschland, one that I will etch into memory as the one where it all came together: speed, distance, audacity and care.
That doesn’t mean I will abandon fast marathon ambitions in 2016. As I train for distances absurd, I will continue my speed training and stick to the 80/20 training philosophy that I adopted this year to achieve my best ever fitness, all without a single injury. Thanks to my unwavering focus on Berlin, I only added one state to the map in 2015. I am hoping to run more than that over the next twelve months.
But most importantly, I will aim to run as many of them in the company of good people. Race stats and chip times are worth very little if they’re not part of a fun and increasingly social sport. Every year since I joined the running masses, I have tried my best to rope others into the movement and 2015 was no exception. Thanks to wonderful friends and family members, the vast majority of the bibs I pinned had companions.
Because every result, whether scratched on a calendar or inked in a labyrinthine spreadsheet, is a continuation of everything that has come before it. No run or race exists in a vacuum, but instead relies on the staggering distances whose sum has written the story of our struggles and aspirations.
And so, with my sights set on the many adventures to come, I look to 2016 with a buzzing mix of eagerness, trepidation, and ambition. Though my plans aren’t completely set in stone, I hope that whatever path my trail takes, that I will share it with fleet-footed travelers of all dispositions, from starry-eyed newcomers to ragged veterans. We’re all searching for the same thing, so we might as well enjoy the company.
Happy New Year!