Goals Accomplished.
This year, I set out to run 52.4 competitive miles. Either two half marathons and a full marathon, or four half marathons. I have now run all the competitive miles I’m going to run this year, and I surpassed that goal by quite a wide margin. I ran:
- The Virginia Beach Half Marathon
- The Providence Half Marathon
- The Philly 10K
- The Navy/Air Force Half Marathon (Washington DC)
- The Marine Corps Marathon (Washington DC)
- The Philadelphia Half Marathon
That’s a total of 84.8 competitive miles. To train for all that, starting January 1, 2015, I ran a total of 1057.7 training miles. Well, probably closer to 1025, considering my GPS usually reads about 2-3% far.
I don’t know how much further I’ll run this year. I’m tired. I have my gym plans, and I have my bike. I’ll certainly run a little bit more. But I am going to lay off the road miles for a bit. I liked having my streak of 100 mile months. But it’s over now. I’m not going to run 36.7 miles in the next week. And I’m ok with that.
My feet are beginning to bicker with me about running. My right foot is starting to give me some nerve-zaps from time to time, just like my left. And it also features some plantar fasciitis-like tightness in the arch. So I’m going to give them a rest. They’ve done their fair duty this year. I owe them.
Emotionally, it feels a bit weird to be planning a break from running. Like I’m grieving a bit. But I’m not taking a break from fitness. And I want to be ready to hit Virginia Beach hard and try to break two hours in the spring. I think it’s in reach, and I’d like to do it one time, maybe. I’ll never be fast. I’ll never be great. But I showed myself this weekend that I remain capable of being better than I was before. And that’s thrilling.
And I have a collection of medals on the wall. And while they’re all just for finishers, not winners, for me, I feel like a winner every time I cross the finish line. I don’t win races. I win health and life and freedom and joy and accomplishment and satisfaction and pride. I’d bet no one in the world has exactly the same collection of little medals as I do. My running is in no way extraordinary. But it is mine. And I am extraordinary to me. And that’s what matters. I’m proud of doing the things that only two years ago I could not possibly imagine. And I think I’ll keep going.
Infactorium 
Very good plan to give your body a rest for at least a few weeks after a year of extensive training and racing. I made the mistake of not doing so a few years ago, and actually tried to increase my volume and intensity at the end of the year, and ended up with a nagging overuse injury that is still bothering me.
I would love it if you could at least one time talk about an accomplishment without saying “but,” or “although,” or any other qualifier.
Those medals are a big dang deal.
I don’t think I really appreciated what a big deal it is to finish until I came in last a couple of times. Every time, I knew there WERE people behind me, but they just never finished.