Maybe it’s because I consider myself an asterisk athlete. If
I don’t run, my deep vein thrombosis kicks in and my left leg is prone to
swelling. I don’t know how debilitating it would’ve been had I not taken up
jogging in my early twenties, during the early months after I suffered blood
clots in my left leg and a pulmonary embolism. In my mid-twenties, I considered
myself a runner, and ran in my first 10 kilometer race, a festive international
romp between Prescott, Ontario, and Ogdensburg, New York.
Slowed by my bad leg, seeing the whole practice as being
more about staying healthy than being competitive, I finished well back in the
pack. But I was on my way.
Since then, I’ve run in eight marathons, completed six of
them. In one, the 2010 Steamtown Marathon, I finished at 3:33:08, my personal
record, which I’ve gotta acknowledge will be my fastest marathon. An eight-minute
mile pace comes to just under 3:30 for a 26.2-mile race. I daresay I won’t be
doing that kind of thing again.
After all, I’m 60 in October. On the treadmill, I’ll average
a pace of 8:30 over five miles. That seems plenty fast enough, thank you. If I can manage a nine-minute mile pace over
26.2 miles, that’s a time of just under four hours. Will that get me back to
Boston? Well, the qualifying time in the 60-65 age category is 3:55. Worth shooting for!
That is, if I go about it smartly. Steady has been my mantra
for almost four decades. I shouldn't be looking to rock the boat now.
Running for Your
Life: Is Everybody Running?
