My plan this morning was to take effectively a rest day. But I know that I’m not good at taking true rest days, so I decided to take a light run to the gym and do a short non-cardio workout. The gym is exactly 1 mile from my house; it’s incredibly appealing to time my mile along this stretch since I know it so well. I couldn’t help but run hard and see how fast I could do the mile. Now, for some perspective, elite runners out there are running a single mile in anywhere from 4:00 to 5:00. For “long” distances, elite runners are still doing sub-6. I’ve never moved that fast without the help of a machine in my entire life. Most of us haven’t. (I wonder what it feels like.) Nevertheless, I ran my mile, and I clocked in at 6:51, which for me is nothing to sneeze at. To compare, my longer runs these days, anywhere from 6-10 miles, are run at around an 7:55-8:22 pace.
There’s part of me that completely doesn’t care about my speed. I run to run. But as I’ve gotten gradually faster, I can’t help but feel that the qualifying for the Boston Marathon is actually in my sights. I have to run slower than I did this morning — but for 26.2 miles. The qualifying time for my age and gender group is 3:10:59. This means 7:17 miles (for 26.2 miles). I think I can do this, if I stay healthy, but it’s going to take a lot of work. Today reminded me that it might be possible.
Update: It turns out that my run, according to Google Maps, is slightly greater than 1 mile. At the time I recorded from yesterday, my actual mile time was 6:40. Whoa!