I saw the light

So I was outside mowing the rice paddy, er, lawn, today when I was nearly overcome by a brilliant light. Almost certain I was about to meet my Maker, I dropped to my knees and looked upward. Turns out it was our long-lost sun attempting a cameo appearance.

I had practically forgotten about the sun's existence. I haven't seen it in quite some time. It feels like it has been since the Reagan Administration. It hasn't been that long, though. I know that because it was present in grand and frustrating fashion during the Twin Cities Marathon on Oct. 7. It seered me that day.

Since then, however, I can't recall seeing it. And it's not just because of my nocturnal ways. It has rained and rained and rained here. My dogs paws have become webbed. I thought I might need an ark just to maneuver my way to the mailbox. And when it hasn't rained, it has been cloudy. Densely cloudy.

The sun never managed to fully emerged today. The sky just became brightly white behind the clouds in a very isolated area for maybe 30 seconds today. It wasn't much, but it was a reminder that it still exists. Our lack of sunshine in the past several days is just a reminder of what's ahead of us in the next couple of months, when it isn't unusual to go weeks without pure sunshine.

Humbled

This has to stop.

I was humbled by the marathon. Again.

It has become a recurring theme. Long gone, it seems, are my days of sub-3:30 marathons. It was only three years ago that I PR'd (sub-3:26 at the 2004 Twin Cities Marathon). Might as well have been a lifetime ago.

I've become progressively slower. It started with a barely noticeable slip to 3:30 marathons. Next came the mid-3:30s. By Grandma's Marathon in June, I had slipped to 3:45.

Today, on my birthday, I posted my second slowest marathon time ever. Plus-4 hours.

Only in my first marathon had I run so slowly, and then I was only by about 4 minutes slower. Twenty marathons had passed since then. Twenty sub-4-hour marathons, including Twin Cities and Chicago three weeks apart in 1999. Heck, until Grandma's three-and-a-half months ago, I hadn't been on the slow side of 3:45 in this millenium.

The easy answer to these slower times is weather. The weather at both Grandma's and Twin Cities this year was among the warmest in the history of both races. And I felt it. Conditions were far from conducive to distance running. Everyone who ran posted slower-than-expected times. Even though my times were among my worst ever, I didn't slow as much as many runners, including many who are more acclomplished marathoners than me. Or so I'm repeatedly reminded.

Weather, undoubtedly, played a role in my recent marathons. It seems like Grandma's is warm every year now and the conditions at Twin Cities have been on the warm, sunny side of favorable for years. But weather alone can't explain what's happening to my times.

So if weather alone isn't the answer to my ever-increasing slowness, what else can explain it? Age, certainly, could be a factor. Perhaps a huge one, especially now that I'm knocking hard on the door of my next decade. That scares me. I'm not sure I want to continue running marathons if it means I'm going to get slower. After all, marathons aren't exactly fun to me and I've always said running a sub-3:30 marathon is easier than running a 4-hour marathon.

Part of the answer might be illness and injuries, which although varied, seem to have suddenly become chronic. If it isn't soft-tissue damage to my toe, then it's a strained abdominal muscle, a sinus infection, allergies or an ankle that has been swollen for two-and-a-half years.

Perhaps another piece in the equation might be training. Maybe I just don't train as intensely as I once did. This certainly seems to be the case, but it's likely just the result of the above-mentioned maladies. I just can't run as hard in my training as I did only a couple of years ago. And I'm not sure it's a desire thing.

Although maybe it is. Maybe I've just lost my fire, my passion for running as hard and as fast as I can for mile after mile. It wasn't until recently that the notion of "quit" ever crossed my mind during a long run or a marathon. Maybe I'm just weaker, both mentally and physically.

Truth is, I'm sure none of these explanations alone is the real answer to my slower times. All, I'm equally certain, have affected me to varying degrees during every marathon I've run during the past few years.

I don't know what I do or where I go from here. I wasn't shy about advertising my birthday run as possibly my last marathon. And that was before I suffered the way I did en route to my slowest time in 20 marathons. Time and conditions aside, it not be a bad way to call it a marathon-running career. Twenty-two marathons entered. Twenty-two marathons survived. It's a good number, I think. Much, much higher than I ever planned to achieve.

Add that I finished this last one on my final birthday before I enter an entirely different phase of my life -- fatherhood is less than two months away now -- and it might just be time to call it quits.

Gone, not forgotten?

Dear Blog:

It has been a while since I last posted. My bad.

So many things going on in the past 18 months. Running -- four more marathons -- impending marriage, actual marriage, injuries -- not related to marriage, thankfully -- three houses/yards to maintain, a third dog and a baby on the way.

Much has changed in my life. Something -- or some things -- had to give. So blogging it was. Nothing personal, of course.

It's not that I forgot about you. I didn't. Look, I've even been diligent about updating my running odometer and marathon list. I just haven't written.

It's not that I haven't thought about it. I thought about writing plenty. I just never got around to it.

That should change. I think maybe I'll pay attention to you more often, in ways beyond updating my running exploits in your right column. I certainly have a thing or two to write about nowadays. I might even go back and fill in some of the gaps between early in 2006 -- when I last posted entries -- and today. Just don't hold me to it.

It's good to see you haven't completely let yourself go in my lengthy absence. Keep it up.


Take care,

RTG