from Boston to Big Sur (to Baby)

The Short Version: Signed up for a spring double. Got hurt. Found out we're pregnant. Rehabbed. Got hurt again. Better for it (all).

The Long Version:

My last bit of writing came in the wake of the Boston Marathon experience. And while I don't attribute the events or its aftermath to my long hiatus from writing, I do think the onset of April 2014--and the recent arrival of life-altering news--warrants the written word.

In terms of running, 2014 was set to be an ambitious year. We wrapped up our Marine Corps Marathon adventure in October with a phenomenal vacation in Washington. Aside from the dining and doing, I put together another race in the realm of 2:50, a bit off the early goal but certainly pleasing. Unfortunately, Stephanie suffered a hip flexor strain in the fall and was forced to forego competition. Fortunately, however, she was able to use the trip to spend quality time with her lifelong friend, a woman who remains our real impetus for traveling across the country to jog around.

In training for MCM and considering my goals for the upcoming year, I landed on the Boston to Big Sur ("B2B") double marathon challenge, an ASICS-sponsored, non-BAA sanctioned event for runners competing in both races. The distinction, which has existed for 500 (or is it 250?) entrants for the past 5 years, is an ambitious offering to run east and west coasts in close proximity (the race is often 13 days and is only separated by six this year). Since I didn't technically "run" while in undergrad on the central coast, it seemed like an apt pilgrimage for me to pursue. And given the way Boston concluded in 2013--a PR topped by a terrorist attack--a reunion on Boylston Street has been in the books since last Patriot's Day. Even if only for the sake of the narrative, the B2B challenge spoke to me.

The double is, in part, in the act of deciding. From a racing standpoint, runners often pick a focus based on their training, their course preferences, and their experiences with each races or courses in past years. For others, the double is set enjoyable long runs. For me, it seemed Boston would be the best to race, and Big Sur could serve as a sort-of victory lap. Stephanie's decision(s) changed this strategy. Despite her BQ, the events of 2013 and updated calibration of entrants effectively un-qualified her from 2014's race. Big Sur, thus became her goal race, and she suggested I run along her. I found this idea extremely attractive. We are two very different animals, and the chance to join her on an entire marathon was previously unfathomable.

In November and December, even through a rushed return to the road and some detrimental tendinitis that developed in my Achilles, I held on to the idea that I'd be running on the craggy coast with my wife come spring.

But while making dinner the night after Christmas, Stephanie returned home to inform me that the racing would be on hold. She did not provide her rationale in the context of running, but in looking back, I can see how a focus on the Big Sur Marathon might take a backseat to nurturing a developing fetus. We (She) were officially expecting!

Obviously ecstatic, I shifted my embrace toward a Boston experience among friends rather than runners. But with the amending of the tendinitis issues, I started to ramp up mileage and training. Stephanie focused quality time on our Boston trip, newly directed at solidifying its "last hurrah as non-parents" feel. We'd enhance it as a bit of a vacation.

Then near the end of a long run in late February, I suffered a stress injury to my heal. I found I couldn't run the next day (yes, I tried) or the day after. I wedged myself into the calendar with a sports medicine doc, slid into an MRI tube, strapped up a walking boot, and hobbled off into what has become an altered state.

In terms of health, I don't know if I've ever been better. Ironically, not running has done wonders. It put me in the saddle of a stationary bicycle, on the peddles of an elliptical machine, atop the sliding seat of a stationary rower, and in the foam embrace of an aqua jogging belt. I've maintained fitness, improved strength, and kept the shape consistent. I still geek out about what I eat, but the prior compulsions of a run-first mentality haven't driven me mad. My approach to racing--to running in general--is changed. Newly formed habits--the gym routine, the dearth of spring race entry forms and associated fees, perhaps--have helped me develop a few important tenets I hope to remember.

1. I am unhappy when I can't run, so when I can, I will run to the extent that I'm happy. I will not run to follow a time or mileage or speed schedule unless it promotes or develops enjoyment.
2. While running plays a certain personal and social role in my life, it is not a job. When it becomes one (or surpasses one), I can reevaluate. Until then, its a hobby.
3. Running is primal and will exist regardless of course, time, device, or bib number. Thus, I have decided to do more of it outside of these imposed and generally accepted confines.
4. I need to succeed in the overall, not just in every day. As any marathoner should know, the best races reflect how a runner sustains over time, not how he starts the race.

On Friday last we learned we're having a boy. Stephanie came home with a shopping bag--a Friday "present" for me. It was a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle onesie. I didn't have to read the subtext; he'd pee standing up.

The fable was right, but I just raced past the learned lesson. It's time to slow down and start acting more like the tortoise. He bests the harrier in the end of the fable, right?