Today was “long run” day -- 8 miles. I’m slow enough right now that this meant my mind had plenty of time to wander, and so I found myself reminiscing a lot about that first time marathon training. I’ve only run two marathons, and both were quite a while ago. My first was back in 2001, ah, the age of innocence, in so many ways.
Eight miles was the first run that really launched marathon training then. At that point, it was the longest I had ever run. I remember doing it: I had measured the distance around McCarran Park – literally -- by using string on a map (no kidding), and ran loops around it until I got to 8 miles. I was excited to have run so far; that’s what I remember most about marathon training, how every time I’d bump up that long run, it would be a new distance, theretofore unfathomable. I can still recall the excitement and thrill that came with actually doing it. I still love seeing that that excitement on the faces of those training for their first marathons, as week after week they run farther than they've ever run before.
Anyway, I ran what subsequent gadgetry would confirm was indeed eight miles, and later that day some friends came from out of town. We went out to eat and on the way out, I noticed that someone had stolen the seat off my trusty steed (that was before the seatpost fused to the frame).
So in my mind, 8 miles is the distance of a stolen bike seat.
Very kindly, my houseguests went to a bike shop the following day and got me a new seat, the one pictured in the link above, I believe. It was used. Probably stolen off someone else's bike, in fact, but let's not ruin a happy ending.
I have the feeling there is going to be a lot of nostalgia this time around.
Eight miles was the first run that really launched marathon training then. At that point, it was the longest I had ever run. I remember doing it: I had measured the distance around McCarran Park – literally -- by using string on a map (no kidding), and ran loops around it until I got to 8 miles. I was excited to have run so far; that’s what I remember most about marathon training, how every time I’d bump up that long run, it would be a new distance, theretofore unfathomable. I can still recall the excitement and thrill that came with actually doing it. I still love seeing that that excitement on the faces of those training for their first marathons, as week after week they run farther than they've ever run before.
Anyway, I ran what subsequent gadgetry would confirm was indeed eight miles, and later that day some friends came from out of town. We went out to eat and on the way out, I noticed that someone had stolen the seat off my trusty steed (that was before the seatpost fused to the frame).
So in my mind, 8 miles is the distance of a stolen bike seat.
Very kindly, my houseguests went to a bike shop the following day and got me a new seat, the one pictured in the link above, I believe. It was used. Probably stolen off someone else's bike, in fact, but let's not ruin a happy ending.
I have the feeling there is going to be a lot of nostalgia this time around.