Toward the end of his show at Madison Square Garden, Jack White announced to his New York audience that “the mud on my shoes is from Robert Johnson’s and Charley Patton’s graves. It’s still on my shoes right now as we walk through Madison Square Garden.” For him, the mud was the direct connection between the 1920s Mississippi bluesmen and 1980s hometown rappers The Furious Five, Kurtis Blow and Run DMC.
After four marathons, I thought I knew a thing or two about preparation. Follow a tried-and-tested program. Study the race website and the course maps. Use a checklist for packing: medicine (ibuprofen is my friend) and assorted medical gear (lube is also my friend); clothing for anything Mother Nature cares to fling at me; the ubiquitous fanny pack with my lucky charms and toilet paper; gels, energy bars, Gatorade, bagels and bananas–I always try leave nothing to chance.
Except, for my fifth marathon, I forgot one key piece of equipment.
Just two weeks after Burlington, I let Tessa talk me into riding 100 km in the Rochester Tour de Cure, my first-ever long-distance bicycle ride. So it was back on the bicycle, which served the dual purpose of keeping my aerobic fitness up while easing the wear-and-tear on my lower body.
If you had told me as I was hobbling around on the Monday after the Mountain Goat that not only would I run Burlington but that I would come in just 28 seconds slower than my New Jersey time a year earlier, given the circumstances, I would have called you crazy.
Yet that’s exactly what happened.
The Mountain Goat got off to a great start, with Team Love Nugget out in force: Tessa, my daughter Carolyn and a work colleague, Gina, all came out to see me off, and my other daughter, Hannah, texted me just before gun time to let me know she would be cheering me on around mile three. Even the right leg felt strong and pain free, and I went off confidently down Salina Street, completing the first mile in just over eight minutes.
The problems began almost immediately after I posted my last blog. And by problems, I don’t mean the disappointment of not getting into New York via the lottery.
My 2013 running season was so unbelievably successful that I am already worried that this year will be a let down. It is certainly going to be hard to repeat last year’s achievements. So if you’ll indulge me for a moment, I’m going to bask in last year’s glory and let the numbers tell the story:
It never fails. The side injury before the Empire State Half. The ITB problems before and during Toronto. The heel pain before and during New Jersey. There’s always something that sows the seeds of doubt prior to a big race, and an incident in training two weeks between the ARC of Onondaga Half and Rochester proved no different.
Just 6 days after the Boilermaker, I logged my 1,000th mile of the year–a milestone that took me exactly a year to achieve in 2012 took me less than 8 months this time around. I was already on the second of 3 pairs of New Balance 860s, my shoes of choice, and felt stronger, faster and more confident than at any time since I started running.
It’s the end of November and the central New York weather has begun its descent into winter. This week, we have seen blasts of lake effect snow coming of Lake Ontario and temperatures dipping into the teens and 20s.
Bruce Pegg 