Jumping In

I first fell in love with marathons last July, when the San Francisco Marathon took its course down Haight Street. I woke in the early morning to the sounds of cheering outside my window and dimly remembered that the race was taking place. Feeling an odd sense of alertness and energy, I dressed and walked down to the street to watch as the first waves of runners made their way toward Fillmore Street. Friendly Hell's Angels directed traffic and pointed the way, and small crowds had gathered on almost every corner to cheer. I had never run more than a mile or two, and do not generally think of myself as athletic, but something about the moment captured my imagination. I decided that when the San Francisco Marathon came past Haight Street the following year, I would be running in it.

I have always loved running, and in the 4th and 5th grades, I excelled at the 50 yard dash, the long jump, and the relay. I even have a few blue and red ribbons. But mostly I rode horses and wrote poems and read books, and that is still true. On that July day, my only athletic shoes were a three year old pair of cross trainers. Still, I thought that if I could run for just thirty minutes. And then if I could keep running with some kind of sporadic consistency despite the demands of graduate school, and work, and loved ones, and vacations. And if, when January came and I was still running, I still loved it, then I would begin to train.

Of course, it didn't quite happen like that, though I did run for nearly thirty minutes the first day. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't too difficult either and slowly I began adding miles. At the end of a run, I couldn't wait to start the next one. I bought a pair of real running shoes. Though I began to feel a persistent soreness in my left leg, I thought little of it. Finally the pain the the beginning and end of runs was too much to ignore. I had expected a shin splint to present itself on the front of my leg, not along the inside calf near the muscle, as it did, but the signs were all too clear. I took a week off, which became two, then three. I took infrequent short runs but was frustrated by how quickly I had lost fitness. Finally, a few weeks ago, I asked after a pair of Capri sweat pants I had bought for running and Andy quipped, "I gave them to a runner." I couldn't even be mad, because he was right. I had not run for several weeks.

So I began running again. Not much, but enough. Then, last Sunday night, Andy and I took a frigid 4.5 mile run through Golden Gate Park. It was my first pain free run in several months and I came back ecstatic, despite the cold. I decided I needed a more immediate goal, and a bit more guidance, so I set my sites on a 12K race scheduled for March 18th. Then I went to Runners World and generated a 13 week training schedule, complete with speed work, tempo runs, and weekend long runs. It started with an easy run last night. Two miles at something like a 14:01 minute mile. It was the easiest run I've ever taken. Now for the hard part.