Ready, Set, Go.

The time has come to run another marathon.  This will be my fifth. It has been over a year since the last marathon and I am ready.  The extended holiday season (plus work) was emotionally exhausting and I know, in my heart and body, that the best remedy is to start training.  For Christmas I received Haruki Murakami's book What I Talk About When I Talk About Running.  He says, "When I'm criticized unjustly (from my viewpoint, at least), or when someone I'm sure will understand me doesn't, I go running for a little longer than usual.  By running longer it's like I can physically exhaust that portion of my discontent."  And it's not just interpersonal discontent, but all frustration and difficulty that can be purged with a good, long run.

This is my first week of training and I love getting up in the morning with a physical purpose.  I'm not going to push my self the way I did for the last marathon.  Then I did Pfitz's Advanced Marathoning, which, with both a Spring and Fall marathon, lead to burnout.  So I'm going back to good ol' Hal Higdon and won't worry too much about my time (though I would, of course, like to PR).  And I'm going to run a brand new race, which gives me a real adventure to look forward to. I hope to make a fun family weekend out of the May 16th marathon in Maine.

My dear friend and comrade Carolyn is planning to run Sugarloaf as well, and this will be her first marathon. And my old, rediscovered high-school friend Christie is going to run Montreal with me in September.  This will be her first, too!  The season has begun and it feels like a homecoming and it is a delight to bring more new recruits into my cult.  It's so simple and gratifying to follow the schedule, to meet the promise of each dawn on Darling Hill, to spend that big chunk of time in glorious solitude once a week on the long run.  All of it just makes me happy.