|Bolder Boulder 2017|
June 1 was the six month surgery-versary for my knee. Better than that, it marks about six weeks of consistent running. Nothing incredible, mind you, just a steady flow of extremely slow miles run in fear of the next step.
Yeah, it’s true. The last six weeks have been run in a constant fear that the next step would be the one that caused SERIOUS knee damage. That, however, is something that has come to an almost conclusive end. About a week ago, it dawned on me that I run so slow (most miles at 12:30 + pace) because I am scared of going faster, scared of pushing it. So, I looked back for some reinforcement.
I had just run 9 miles without incident and logged a 40 mile week. If my knee was going to give out, surely that would have been a good time, right? Well, it didn’t. Next came the Bolder Boulder, Six point Two miles of asphalt and concrete in the People’s Republic of Boulder, surely that would be the breaking point. It wasn’t.
In fact the Bolder Boulder showed that I could push a bit and still be okay. Everyone in our group: Ryan, Brian, Mason all set personal records. I was elated to be thirty minutes off my BB PR at 1:06:33. Up until the BB10K, I had yet to run a mile under 11 minutes. On Memorial Day, I strung together 6 of them, with a best of 10:11. I don’t ever remember being happier at a BB10K finish line.
|Six Months Ago|
I realize that this is not the story of quickness or a comeback. It is, however, the story of seeing a hope and a future for this 50 year running career. And frankly, I was getting a bit worried about that.
Life changes. The 30 and 40 mile weeks seem pale in comparison to the good old days. Ha! The good old days. While organizing some logbooks, I found a stretch of weeks from 1991 where the mileage went: 101,105, 107, 82, 101, 106, 100, 71, 109, 120, 100, 89, 104, 106, 100, 82, 100. Holy crap! That’s 1683 miles in seventeen weeks! And no injuries. Incredible. THAT was a while ago.
For now, I’ll take 30-40 going on 50 as I build for the New York Marathon in five months. At least, at this point, I see that as something that can happen. When I was scared, I didn’t.
I still feel the knee. Most days the discomfort (I hesitate to call it pain) is a one on the ten scale. Occasionally it peaks up to a three. Heck, most days, the rest of my body feels worse than my knee as I come trudgingly closer to 110,000 total miles (that’s 120 miles away).
It’s been a long trail. Still nowhere near the end.