Boston -- Yeah, Let's Try It

In 2014 I will turn 45.  That 45th birthday is unsettling because it seems that 50 is closing in, fast, and I would be lying if I said that didn’t freak me out.  It does, however, yield a bonus:  a new age group.  I tumble out of the bottom of women 40-44 and to the top of women 45-49.  This does not necessarily put me in a better competitive position at many races.  There are lots of women in their middle-late 40s in this region who kick serious ass.  Hell, Cecily Tynan is exactly my age and can still sustain a six-minute mile through a 10k course.  What is most spectacular about the new age group for me is the birthday present from the Boston Athletic Association.  Ten minutes, all wrapped up in a pretty bow.  The qualifying window for the 2015 Boston Marathon is now open, and since I will be 45 on the day of that race, I get to use the age-45 qualifying time now.  The maximum amount of time I have to complete a marathon to qualify for Boston jumps from an impossible 3 hours and 45 minutes, to a probably still impossible 3 hours and 55 minutes. 

The Boston Marathon.  The holy grail.  An event designed for people with actual athletic ability.  The only marathon that restricts entry to those who have proved they can run fast (except, obviously, Olympics and championship races).  Any athlete that qualifies either had a brutal training regimen or has an innate athletic gift.  The bulk of qualifiers have both. 

The blessings I received at birth include good hair and the ability to collect things on a high shelf.  Athletic prowess is not on this list.  I compensate for this with the ridiculous-for-a-mid-packer training plan.  I sign up for events that are tough, but achievable for me if I do the work to prepare.  Ironman is a great example.  I don’t have a gift.  I have a drive that pushes me to do the last few 100-meter swim drills when my body feels desperate to do the dead-fish float on the 16th one, and to do crap like this for up to 17 hours per week.  To push through heat and cold and pain and stomach issues and lack of time and watching people who trained half as hard as me walk toward their cars with their finishers’ medals on while I’m grunting my way through my final miles. 

That drive may not be enough for Boston.  I may need the gift too.  My current best marathon time is 4:20:42, achieved in perfect conditions in Chicago when in the best physical shape of my life (fully Ironman-trained).   To BQ, I have to peel off nearly 26 minutes, lowering my pace a minute per mile. 

I’m going for it anyway.  I have to try.  How can I not try?  Boston is my fantasy; my number one bucket list item.  So I’ll take my shot at the Shamrock Marathon in Virginia Beach on March 16.  To get ready, I’ll train super hard, which I’ve done before.  And I’ll do things I’ve stubbornly refused to do before, like an appropriate diet (boo!) and planks and other core work (double boo!).  I’ll try to force my mind to overcome my body’s limitations, and to force my body to teach my mind to stop talking me down.  And I’ll have accountability by going public with this quest.  

So there.  I’m out.  I’m taking this sorry collection of genes out for a BQ attempt in just 14 weeks.  Time to see what sheer will and 45 years of stubbornness can accomplish.