Future

The future is scary.  For runners especially, it can be petrifying.  The next race is cumbersome to think of.

The next training cycle already has me worried.  The next journey I take as a runner leaves me clueless as to what I can accomplish and if I can even accomplish it.

For me, I lament and relish my futures that care coming up sooner rather than later.

In the most immediate of futures I have the Metro Atlantic Athletic Conference (MAAC) Championships at the legendary Van Cortlandt Park in eight days.  My cross-country season so far has been a failure as I’ve attained zero of the goals I sought out for myself in the summer.  This one 5-mile race may be my last chance for some revenge.  This future marks an end of an era for me.

While cross-country may not be the best suited type of running for me, I will miss it terribly once I complete my last race as a member of the Marist College cross-country which is either in two weeks or four.  It was the most challenging experience of my life.  Upon entering the squad, my coach (on the relatively older and slower side) could beat me in a 10-mile race.

Now? Well, I’m still pretty slow, but not that slow.  I can hold my own with the team which I had never really been able to do before.  That doesn’t mean they’re kicking my ass every day in workouts, long runs and races. 

Will I miss it?

Absolutely.

I enjoy, and am thankful for, the challenges cross-country have bestowed upon me.  Running with faster people every day has obviously transformed the type of runner I am.  Lining up with these talented runners is a major reason I have been able to accomplish what I have in running three years as a Red Fox.  While this day is soon coming to an end, I am forever thankful for the opportunity to carve out my own running history and be a part of such a venerable squad of runners and be coached by someone who knows more about the sport than I do about my own self.

In the not-so-but-almost immediate future I begin training for the 2012 Boston Marathon, which will be my 6^th overall marathon and 2^nd one at Boston.  Last year, I had high hopes at breaking 2:40.  It didn’t happen.  This year, I’m starting out no differently with the goal I set out for last year.  I crave breaking 2:40.  It consumes me and it’s a possessive goal that leaves me to yearn for nothing else.  I relish the difficulties marathon training in the middle of winter will bequeath upon me, but am simultaneously terrified of the alternative: failure.

As documented on this very blog, lots of mitigating factors led to my demise in Boston.  It could be a plethora of things that got in my way, but the sheer thought of not accomplishing this goal again is crushing.  There’s nothing I want more than to see the first two digits of that clock when I cross the finish line at Boylston St. read “2:3x:xx”.  Many things could again get in the way of me not breaking 2:40 this time around.  Only the future knows what will happen. 

At long last is my future running career.  I know that it won’t actually be my career as I’m not professional-caliber.  I’m far from it, and that’s okay.   I may have a lot of time when I graduate because I may be unemployed.  I may have no time as I’ll be starting my professional career, whatever that may be.  I don’t know yet.  What I do know is that I want to achieve some level of greatness; there will always be a competitor in me trying to get PR after PR and improve to be the absolute best runner I can be.  While life and the future may tug me the other way, I’m not done with this sport yet.

There’s still a future for me out there in running.

As long as there’s another race, there’s hope. 

Questions without answers (yet)

This year of cross country was supposed to be “the year”.  I had finally decided to dedicate myself to cross country only (instead of doing cross country training with marathon training) and seeing what I was capable of.  I wasn’t sure if I could pull off a 27:30 (or even sub 27-minute) 8K or if I were just doomed to not be a solid Division 1 cross country runner.  I put in the work over the summer by running 70 miles a week from June-July.  I put in the work in the earliest parts of the season by running 80 miles a week for most of August and all of September.  In workouts, I was tearing it up.  I was even put in the middle workout group for the first time in my life, when I was always in the slowest one.

The middle group!  After two years of going through a daily Sisyphean struggle of trying to move up from the slow group, I had finally been promoted and adapted quite well.  Being able to hold on in workouts like hill repeats and tempo runs were attainable.  Not only was I elated, but also confident and ready to rip some good times. 

Once racing began, things weren’t so dandy.

My first race, a little 5K to begin the season, went solid.  I knew I wasn’t a 5K runner anyway but was happy with my result.  My first 8K was a complete and total disaster; albeit the course’s footing was like soft sand at the beach, and I was without spikes, I had one of the worst races I could have ever imagined.  The chance to redeem myself was Friday at the prestigious Paul Short Run at Lehigh University in Pennsylvania.  Again, things did not go well.  I faltered too hard late.  While I ran over 80 seconds faster at Lehigh than my first 8K in Connecticut, I had expected to run even better, as did everyone else.  It was summed up as “solid” by my coach.

“Solid” wasn’t what I wanted when I decided to solely focus on cross country this year.  I wanted great.   I had aspirations and dreams of completely transforming the type of runner I was, finally grasping that speed I so longingly craved for and becoming a respectable 8K runner. 

I haven’t reached that yet.  I don’t know whether or not I am physically capable of such accomplishments on the 8K course.  I may only be able to reach such prosperity on the roads as a marathon runner.   I may just be slow. 

In all honesty, I have no idea yet of what I’m capable or not capable of.  After two months at 75-80 miles a week or above, I’m dropping my weekly mileage to around 65 miles per week to try and get some more speed.  I have the strength, as I’ve always had, but now comes the time to hone the speed if I even have any.   With two more races coming up and my training style being totally altered, we’ll see  if I can be a respected 8K cross country runner, if I have speed, if I’m more than just a marathon runner.  Time will tell whether or not it’s “the year”.  If it isn’t the year, it’s impossible to look at the hard work and not think you’ve failed when you’ve done what you’re supposed to do, worked yourself harder than ever before and not have much to show for it.  If that’s the disappointment I’m destined for, I have no idea how I’ll ascertain that caustic reality. 

Or, perhaps I do.  If it’s not “the year”, I’ll make sure it’s “the year” when I begin my training for the Boston Marathon in early November.