In the spirit of Finishing What I Started, I will wrap up this series, Hansons Marthon Method Training with Your Pal Colby, with one final weekly recap. It just wouldn’t be complete. I couldn’t skip Week 18, lovingly referred to as My Shit Micro-Taper Week which ended, of course with The Baystate Marathon. In case you nodded off, Week 18 also included a double eye infection, Drunk Otis’ million dollar emergency sock extraction surgery (and subsequent satellite dish of a cone) and the usual phantom taper aches and pains. Between Tina and I, we had plantar fasciitis, piriformis syndrome and a broken hip. Total Insanity. I blame Hansons.
Monday: Easy 6 Miles. I had an early morning panic attack wondering if my legs would actually recover this week and feel fresh come Sunday. I had beaten them into submission for 18 Weeks and almost thought they would revolt and hitchhike right outta Dodge. Instead, they were compliant. And giddy.
Tuesday: Easy 5 miles. For the first time in months, I did NOT run intervals at Half Past Ass O’clock. Instead I slept in and drank coffee in bed in the morning. Is that what normal people do? My legs sent me a cookie bouquet in gratitude.
Wednesday: RESTFUCKINGDAY! I obsessed about what I was wearing on Sunday since the weather had turned from chilly to frost warning. However, my wardrobe issues quickly dissipated when Drunk Otis and his sock-blocked intestines wound up at the vet having emergency surgery. Because that’s the kind of crisis you need during your taper. Or any day. Dumb Brown Dog.
Thursday: Tempo Run? What Tempo Run? NONE! And Thank You Sweet, Tired Baby Jesus. Because between my still sore eyes and The Sock Guy, 6 easy miles was about all could handle. In light of all this nonsense, I wondered if the taper would even work.
Friday: 6 easy miles. Dare I say I started to feel rested?!?!? And felt like I had oodles of extra time! I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I went and got a brow wax. #priorities Then went to the eye doctor. Then picked up Drunk Otis and His Massive Cone. I also poured myself a drink and remembered Tina was picking me up in the morning. You know, to finally run the marathon I had been living, eating and breathing for 18 stinking weeks? Honestly, it didn’t even seem real. Primarily because I felt as if I couldn’t run to the mailbox if I tried. Even a micro-taper screws with your body-mind connection.
Saturday: 3 miles. THREE MILES. I hadn’t run “just” 3 miles in an eternity. HOLY TOLEDO. IT’S FINALLY HERE. It hit me like a ton of bricks. Instead of being nervous, I got excited. Really. Freaking. Excited.
Sunday: 26.2 miles. The Grand Finale. All that work. All that doubt. All those miles. And?I DID IT!
I can’t even. I’m sitting here with tears rolling down my cheeks. I am totally overwhelmed. I did it! I really did it. BQ and PR. I had the run of my life. OF MY LIFE! Expect a real recap once I compose myself. Today I was alternating between spontaneously fist pumping to bursting into tears every 25 minutes or so. GET IT TOGETHER, COLBY. After all, you’re runnin’ Boston. 😉
Total number of miles: 52
Total number of times I said: I JUST FUCKING QUALIFIED FOR BOSTON! 1,648
Number of hours spent smiling the biggest, toothiest, happiest smile of my life since yesterday: 24