Predict, test, assess, repeat

Until a few years ago, I was a research scientist. My career wasn't very long, and it certainly wasn't very distinguished. I don't remember many of the details of what I "researched," but I know it involved a lot of stinky (and potentially deadly) chemicals and a lot of failed experiments. But such is science. The scientific method teaches that there are four steps through which scientists endeavor to construct an accurate representation of the world. Every experiment provides an opportunity to test a hypothesis and then reject or modify it. Eventually, through this iterative process, one comes to better understand the world and perhaps even develop a theory to represent it.

Yesterday I completed my seventh marathon, which, combined with the four half marathons and one 30K race I've run, comprise a nice set of data to analyze and develop a theory about my running: I run my best times when I don't go out too quickly (no surprise there). The data recorded in my running logs throughout my training period is a pretty accurate predictor of what I can accomplish come race day (whether I choose to believe it or not), and I could probably tell you within five seconds how fast I can run a half or full marathon. I prefer hills in the early part of my race. Lunges may not make me much faster or give me better endurance, but they certainly increase the amount of pounding my legs can bear and, in turn, decrease my recovery time. Anatomically, I appear to be pretty well-suited to running, if you omit my toes, which seem to take a beating in every race. Sometimes, running can be a lot more fun when I'm not worried about my time.

So there it is. Five years, twelve races, one unifying theory.

For the record, I did not run a PB. I did run my fastest ever half marathon, but unfortunately that doesn't count! I went out too aggressively and paid for it dearly when confronted by strong winds, big hills, and a blistered toe in the latter half of the race. Just when I was nearing total exhaustion around 20 miles (after fighting the hills and wind for the previous six miles), and just when I was digging deep to try to finish strong, I felt something dislodge under the top of my shoe. My toenail, perhaps? I limped/struggled/winced the last 5 km, desperately trying to not alter my gait too much, and though my toe didn't turn out to be as bloody as I was anticipating (I had Zdenek remove my shoe at the end because [a] I couldn't bend that far, and [b] I couldn't bear to look), that toenail is now on its way out for good. Fortunately, that's the worst of my injuries today. I was a little stiff getting out of bed this morning but am otherwise 100%, which would be a good thing, except now it makes me wonder if I worked hard enough. Perhaps I could've left more on the road…

To finish on a positive note, though (which I don't feel I did yesterday), here are the best things about Sunday's race:

1. Zdenek ran a great half marathon and thoroughly enjoyed himself. This makes me extremely happy, because if he had not enjoyed it (or worse, got injured), I doubt he'd be eager to run again. But he was all smiles after the race, and is even considering running the full marathon in NYC this fall.

2. I made it to the start on time, with plenty of time to spare. I managed to get in a 1 km (or thereabouts) warm-up, and I wasn't trying to squeeze into my corral or catch up with my wave or take a last minute pee as I have at almost every other race I've run. When the gun has gone off in other races, I have been in various places, several of which did not include the start line:

• Cincinnati - squatting behind a bush
• Boston - one mile away
• Toronto Waterfront - standing in line at the port-a-potty
• NYC - frantically weaving through 20,000 people, trying desperately to find my corral which had already closed several minutes ago

3. I didn't suffer any painful cuts or chafing. The half-stick of BodyGlide I applied beforehand must have helped.

4. In spite of my legs being in screaming, horrific, unbearable-and-never-before-experienced pain after the race, after 10 minutes of wobbly, stiff "walking" to the shuttle bus, the pain miraculously dissipated almost entirely. Even better, the shuttle bus was only about 500 m away.

5. I don't have to worry about running another race for some time. But I already miss running enough to know that I'll probably be back out there tomorrow. After all, theories can always stand to be tested and revised.

(will post pictures soon)