Sad sad shins

Well, tomorrow I'll be in Salida running my first marathon. My mood has changed drastically in the past week regarding the race. 2 weeks ago when I ran 27 miles during a training run, I was extremely excited and confident about the marathon coming up. I had run about 6 miles or so further than most training programs recommend. With the adrenaline flowing during competition, I was positive that I could knock quite a bit of time off of this mellow training run, and possibly even finish in less than 4 hrs. In Anchorage a week ago, I decided to do a 20 mile run during my 'taper' period. Still much further than is recommended, but I simply didn't care since I had long ago thrown away their advised mileages. Obviously, this was a mistake, but not necessarily because of the amt of miles. It was the amt of miles I was forced to run on pavement to complete the long run. My trail running shoes don't have very much cushioning at all, exactly how I like it on trails, exactly what I hate and fear on roads. So I ran the length of the 10 mile Coastal Trail on horrible snowpack, then ran 10 or so miles back on roads to avoid that bad bad snow. I felt fine during the run, but 4 days later when I tried to run again for the first time, I immediately noticed that both shins were giving me trouble. Not terrible pain, but not right. After 5 miles, I decided to stop the run, and rest for the remainder of the days before the marathon.

So, I haven't run much this week. I spent too much time at sea-level. I have shin splints. Obviously the confidence that I had spilling out of me is gone. Now I'll be happy with just finishing the marathon without pain.

I'll be leaving with local ultra-runner Ben Dunn at 5:30 to head east to Salida. A cup of joe and bagel at Mocha's in Gunnison, over Monarch Pass, then down into Salida near the Arkansas River. At this point I'm packed and ready to go.

The hydration pack is loaded with about 1,200 calories in the form of Gu gel packets, granola bars, fig newtons, and half of a peanut butter sandwich. Race organizers encourage you to be completely self-sufficient with all of your favorite foods since the aid stations aren't stocked very well. Also in the vest is my crappy point and shoot camera, mp3 player, IBUPROFIN, electrolyte caps, liner glove and arm warmer (other arm has cast in the way), sunglasses, and chapstick.

In 12 hrs I'll be shivering at the start line in shorts and sub-freezing temps, more nervous than I've been in months. Should be a good time!