Every once in a while, I learn from my mistakes. Not all the time, because that would take some of the chaos out of my life and make it difficult to be a self-deprecating outdoor columnist.
However, in the interest of the structural integrity of my left knee, my right hip and general health, I am going to train for the half-marathon I plan on running.
It sounds obvious, but I entered my five previous half-marathons and two full marathons unprepared. That’s a bad idea at age 23, and it’s outright stupid at 33. (Man, I’ll be 33 on race day. I might have to work that age thing out on my laptop one of these weeks.)
My first full marathon was in San Diego and my longest training run before that was 14 miles, a little over half of what I’d have to do. My college buddy Matt and I had similar goals: 1.) Live. 2.) Don’t lose control of bodily functions.
They were simple goals that led to poor training. We thought we’d just get to mile 14, then run a mile, walk a mile for the rest of the way. Being two competitive dudes desperately not wanting to prolong the misery, we ran with no regard for cartilage and only slowed to get water.
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