I hate talking about me. I like talking about my family, baseball, autism, running, raising money for charity, computers, food … but I get all weirded out when it comes to talking about me. I’m a normal guy, just like any of your neighbors. I get up, go for a run, get ready for work, help the kids get in the car to go to school, eat my oatmeal and drink my coffee, go to work, come home, dinner and family time until the kids go to bed, work of some sort on the computer, then bed. Rinse and repeat.
My view while I'm writing this, as ordinary as it gets.
Why does anybody want to read about me talking about me? But I think there’s a chance that I still have a little bit of a base of folks who are interested in doing good who started following back in 2010 and know what Operation Jack is all about, so I guess every here and there I have to talk about me. It’s like dinner at the in-laws or public speaking. Sometimes it just has to be done.
This is one of those times, I guess. Oh I hate this. It’s making me itch. But here goes …
On Sunday, I’m running my 100th marathon because my wife is making me. There, I said it. I’m not all that big on statistical milestones like this one. It doesn’t faze me. It’s just a number. It’s my hobby, what I do for fun. It doesn’t make me any better than anybody or any more special than anybody. The number I’m the most excited about that involves my running is $140,000. But since this is my blog, I probably should make one post at least talking about this 100th marathon, because if I don’t, it’s almost pointless for me to ever talk about running, you know?
So anyways, this one wasn’t even on the schedule until a few weeks ago. After failing miserably in the heat at the Boston Marathon last month, I knew I’d have one chance to qualify and get back there next year. I love running that race. It’s my favorite. Any of you who have ever met me or talked to me know how much I love it. The final quarter-mile is on a street called Boylston and it’s packed with spectators. That’s my favorite quarter-mile of running all year. I just love it.
When I turned on to the second-to-last street, Hereford, I saw Boylston and starting getting teary-eyed. My favorite 100 seconds of running of the year, coming right up. And I knew that there’s a chance I might not be back next year. I know, total first-world problem, and probably not getting a lot of sympathy from y’all who aren’t particularly close to qualifying but want to. But I train hard and have for years and really enjoy getting out there.
Anyways, Utah Valley on June 9 is my target race to get back. It’s a fast, downhill course, although those present their own challenges. Still, that’s what I was focusing on and gearing up for with about 8 weeks in between the two races. But then about two weeks ago, as I was just getting over a sprained ankle that sidelined me for five days, my wife texted me and told me that her and my oldest son Benjamin really, really wanted to be at my 100th marathon. She was confirming that I was at 99** and asked if there were any local races.
** She’s kind of a marathon widow and doesn’t always know the exact count. Sometimes I don’t and have to do some math. She’s used to me getting up, running a marathon, then coming home and taking the kids to the park. It’s kind of like a softball game or something. It’s what I do.
Sure enough, there’s a race here in Denver this Sunday. The timing for my training couldn’t be any worse. I was coming off that five-day layoff, which set me back a bit. I don’t think I’ll be ready to run a Boston qualifier (I need to break 3:10) up here at elevation. I’ve only got 2 1/2 months of acclimation in my system! And 20 days before Utah Valley? It’s going to bang me up and I’m not going to have a chance to improve.
Running wisdom tells me to treat this race as a training run, not to go all-out and use it as a good workout. But I’m not built that way. I go all-out every time, unless I have a specific reason not to (leading a pace group or pacing a friend). Another race on the upcoming schedule isn’t a sufficient reason. I’ve run marathons on back-to-back days roughly 15 times. Every single time I’ve gone all-out the first day. I always say that in those situations, I’ll worry about day 2 as soon as I cross the finish line on day 1. All-out, every time. That’s how I do it. In a milestone race that’s making my wife want to celebrate, there’s no way I can go less than 100 percent.
So, this 100th marathon couldn’t be coming at a worse time. But Tiff has been so supportive of everything, especially what we did in 2010. And if she wants me to run this race (and she does), then that’s what I’m going to do. Just like everything else in my life, I know it’s part of the plan, I’m not going to worry and I’m going to go out there and give it my all. And of course, I’ll do everything I can to make my family wait for as little time as possible.
In retrospect, it’s been a fun ride. I just started running about seven years ago and I’ve developed a lifetime worth of memories (and I’m still only in my 30s). I’m grateful for the ability to run, to get out there and get fresh air and see small parts of this incredible kingdom we live in. I’m grateful that I have a hobby like this that keeps me healthy and gives me plenty of quiet time. I’m grateful for all the great people I’ve met through running. I’m grateful that I’ve been blessed with an ability that allows me to do some good in the world.**
** 1 Peter 4:10 | Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.
But this 100th marathon thing … it’s just a number. It’s really not that big of a deal to me. But it is to my wife and family. So I guess I’m going 26.2 on Sunday.
