Tuesday, June 9, 2009

To Marathon or Not to Marathon

As I was crossing the finish line at the Philadelphia Marathon last November with a time of 4 hours and 32 minutes, so close to my goal of 4 1/2 hours, I swore to myself that was my final marathon. I ran that marathon without walk breaks, despite the agony of the final five miles in which each step felt like I was hoisting an anvil. This was my first time achieving this goal, and once I had it, I felt satisfied.

For about a day.

By December, while I was still safely ensconced in the the marathon recovery period, I already knew I was going to enter the New York Marathon lottery. The New York Marathon has 35,000 spots and roughly 90,000 applicants, and they using a random lottery rather than qualifying times to pull their field. I've heard repeatedly that I need to do New York -- that it is an experience like no other. Though I tend to prefer quiet runs to an event feel, I entered the lottery as soon as it opened in January. I told myself that if I didn't get in, I would not run a marathon in 2009.

By February, I was telling myself that if I could run the Broad Street Run in under 88 minutes, I would run the Philly Marathon if I didn't get into New York. My thinking was that if I could meet that goal, with intense training, dieting and coaching I might be able to use the Philly Marathon to attempt a Boston Marathon qualifying time. For my age group, that is three hours and 50 minutes -- 26.2 miles at about an 8:50/minute pace. A ridiculous notion given that, at the time, I had never run any race, not even a 5k, at a pace under nine-minute miles.

My Broad Street time, while good at 91 minutes, did not meet this lofty goal. And I found out last week that I did not get into the 2009 New York Marathon.

So no marathon in 2009. Right? Marathons are brutal stuff. The training is intense -- it eats up all of the late summer and fall. I'd spend three months completely paranoid about injury and making sure that I always find time for my training runs, weight and core training and recovery, and the money for the extra pairs of shoes I'll need and the entrance fee. All to experience intense suffering that I still have not forgotten from last November.

I have another good reason for not running the 2009 Philly Marathon. My older sister, who has had her own hard challenges this past year, is going to run the 8k race that coincides with the marathon. I could run this with her and keep her company. In other words, running the Marathon is not only masochistic, it's selfish.

And yet, I'm on the Marathon website every day, just itching to push the application button. I'm sick, diseased, cursed with a personal-record obsession I just can't heal. But I think I can get close to four hours.