View Workout (Paul Boardman)

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December 5, 2009 (Afternoon)

Exercise Type: Run

Weather: sleet high wind dark under 40 degrees

Comments:
I was supposed to take the full day off and maybe swim but I don't have the money for the membership to the gym so I decided to shake out 3 miles. The Idea of running today was a daunting one with the sleet, high winds, and just all around cold. A few miles into the run the thought of, "oh this will make me strong, make me hard, make the long lonely runs seem like cake", crept into my head. This was enough to push me to do four. Then I passed a chubby little girl out on a run of her own. She was the only other person out at all and she smiled at me....She fucking smiled, that was enough to push me to five. It was miserable though I was cold and wet and even through my winter tights my skin burned from the cold. All I could think was less than a year till Philly marathon. Then it crept in. The fog is what I call it. If anyone sees my face at this point it would be the same as looking at an autistic child. Just not there but at this point there is a war going on in my brain. Like a duck at the surface all is calm and just below the legs are spinning wildly scratching at anything. Today it was visions of grander, breaking the tape in everything from the 10 mile on up. Is this delusion? Am I only kidding myself? Or are these goals the only real motivators? Yeah they get you through the long runs alone but can they push me through the lonely gut wrenching workouts? Yesterdays mile repeats were a blur with hold on for one more day stuck in my head at the last 600 of every repeat. What the fuck is that? Are these dreams only to lead me through to mediocrity, or will they propel me to greatness? Do the winners have these same dreams or are the simply nightmares of unattainable goals? These arguments get me through the run much easier than what I'm even arguing about. Highway hypnosis at a slow pace, blink and I've gone 3 miles. But now what, the dreams are still there. Is this how it happens? One dreams, trains, changes their entire life for this, and then it happens? Or will I simply stumble through around three hours barely qualifying for Boston. Is there any coming back from that? How much would the crowd love that? The only thing better than an underdog story is an underdog no ones heard of until after the upset. The masses grabbing at every story of failure until grand achievement, clambering to tell someone, "I trained with him in high school,I drank beers with him last summer. I certainly do not look to achieve that type of celebrity....but it sure as hell passes the cold wet miles.