Half a
week later, my walking’s back to normal, I don’t feel so physically or mentally
sore, and I’ve gained some perspective on my manic-depressive Marathon Sunday. No
doubt I went out too fast and fatigued early, making my last 10 miles a
slog-fest. But if pace was the only issue, wouldn’t I simply wilt? Wouldn’t the
first warning signs be funny breathing and side stitches?
Pain
began at Mile 14.5 with lightning bolts to the quad muscles. My breathing was
fine, my sweat copious but manageable. This wasn’t running on empty, this was injury
from overuse. Those little leg twinges I felt Friday forecasted greater suffering
Sunday.
My
friends, we must take the taper seriously. Eighteen weeks of training taxes
your mind and muscles, both need rest, rest, rest. Slouching in an
uncomfortable chair, taking an extra lap around the Expo, walking the extra
mile to catch the sunset, walking an extra 10 miles through a corn maze the
previous weekend: these add up.
The final
training week, seen through the lens of exhaustion:
Tuesday
Stayed up
too late the night before, so I bumped my morning run to the soaking evening, fighting through
puddles and low visibility. Should’ve abandoned the 6 x 400M speedwork for a
lighter workout. Instead, I rode 4.5 miles to unnecessary soreness.
Thursday
Much
nicer morning for a pleasant 3 miles at planned (for milder weather) marathon
pace. Denial that climate change could effect Sunday sets in. Another heat wave
can’t really happen, right?
Sunday
It
happened. I underestimated the distance between the Charity Village and the start
corrals, so after dropping my bags with the Sloan-Kettering folk, meeting the
team and downing more water. I jogged nervously back to Columbus Drive and
pushed through the throngs to the 4:30 pace group area. If only I’d stayed
there…
With that
impromptu warm-up, it’s 26.5 miles of boom and bust earning me a finisher’s
medal.
-----------------
Week 41:
34 miles
YTD: 904.5
miles
On pace
for: 1153 miles
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