Enter the Taper
Tuesday was the culmination. The prescription was 6 miles at marathon pace, 1 mile at tempo pace, six more miles at marathon pace, and finally another two miles at tempo. I was nervous before starting—good practice for race day. No tunes. No crutches. Buckle down and do. it. And I did.
The hardest day was a fifteen miler at marathon pace some weeks ago. 5F temps and a 20mp not-quite-crosswind almost broke me. In all the hard workouts since I have drawn on that one. I can finish this. Perhaps I will yet draw on it more come race day. There are not many people who can understand all this. This quote from the Tracksmith website sums it up well... Winter is the lonely anvil on which all runners must shape their future. They are memories, hard in the moment but good in the rearview. Anymore, my runs are made of memories. As I covered the last mile yesterday I was accompanied by ghosts. A good laugh with friends here. Running through the pouring rain with my son's cross country team there. Place and memory become one. Where I tread has become who I am.