It's hard for me to believe that it's been almost six months since I last toed the line in a race. My marathon was way back in mid-October and I guess that finally getting that magic sub-3 out of my system satiated whatever competitive appetites I possess. The Canyon hiking saga in December probably contributed to keeping those racing instincts at bay as well. I think this may be just about the longest I've gone without running a race since...well, maybe since I was nine?? So now that I'm less than a week out from my big return to the world of starting guns and ChampionChips, I'm actually feeling quite...anxious.
Fact is, I'm pretty flummoxed as to what I should be expecting from myself. I'm been keeping to a fairly rigorous training schedule since January, but only in terms of mileage, not speed. This will be my third 60 mile week in a row, but today's 9-minute paced 17 miler left me absolutely knackered. (maybe something to do with three 60-milers in a row...?) Very few of my runs have been much under nine pace actually, so the idea of abruptly requesting my tired legs to churn out 13.1 6:40s seems terribly unrealistic. But all of this disciplined LSD must have prepared me for something....just what though, I haven't a clue.
I've got a week to taper and ponder and see how my legs respond to a little well-earned rest, so I guess I'll come up with some sort of a plan before next weekend. And maybe I'll get lucky like the last time I decided I was ready to race again -- another blizzard will blow in to New York and make this quandary go away.