My goal is to be able to maintain my usual base pace with a much lower heart rate. Maybe the result will be faster times in races, but my real reason is that I don’t want to ask my heart to work so hard.
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I wanted to reconnect to running. I had joined cross country in middle school and had been pretty casual about running. I always knew I liked something about it, the time to myself, the ability to be present, the opportunity to have a clear mind, maybe. I was never the fastest runner, and I knew that, but running was always something I could do for myself.
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Flat overcast light seeps into the recessed confines of a vegetarian joint in Chinatown, the deuteragonist destination of the Lunar Year dim sum run to the protagonist meaty option. We’re about 10 sweaty runners seated at a large circular table forming our own little microcosm of Athleticism within the greater universe of normie patrons at this brunch hour.
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“Listen,” she said, “you’re a marathon runner, you’ll bounce back.”
I laughed. “I used to be. I could never do that now.”
“No, no, no. You’re a marathon runner and you always will be, even if there’s a time that you can no longer walk.”
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Feeling the soreness and fatigue, I again reminded myself of all the training and fuel I gave myself and that this could be my only chance at BQing (qualifying for Boston!
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Watching the millions of animals that bring “the Mara” to life, I realized something: They run.
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I prefer to run marathons simply for joy – with no big plan, goal, expectation, or smartwatch. And I love every minute of doing that.
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I ran the Chicago Marathon earlier this month. At the time I thought it was a complete disaster but I'm realising that I dealt with it in a way that makes me proud.
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So I’ve had more time to think things over, and I’ve got a train ride ahead of me. I figured I’d jot down some more fully formed thoughts about where I went wrong in my training.
I had not yet considered running with my then almost two-year-old son, as it was effort enough for me to move my own body, let alone adding on the weight of a heavy piglet. Little did I know that the then-untouched running stroller in my storage unit would be the secret weapon that would light my running on fire…
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This small dose of stability and moment of peace were enough motivation to run 7+ miles there and walk/run 7+ miles home. In the past year, I’ve only run as far two other times. I haven’t felt like it nor have I had the energy, often leaving my running shoes waiting patiently - yet neglected -at my door.
Still, throughout the pandemic, I’ve seen PPTC runners engaging in early morning speed-work in the park and heard stories of club members breaking records and running new PRs. It’s enthralling.
I remember back in early 2018, when I was first getting into running as a hobby and not just an obligation, I was out with friends and mentioned to one of them—an actual fit, fast person—that I was considering signing up for a 5K.
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I started running in high school in California, because I wanted to be on a team and had friends who ran track. I tried pole vaulting, but didn’t have the upper body strength or sprint speed, so I switched to distance running. I was terrible at that too.
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I was always someone who’d optimize my high school track meets by trying to do the least amount of running possible. My teammates acknowledged me as a fellow “runner,” but never without the air quotes — and I couldn’t blame them.
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Editor’s Note: The following is the text of an address given by Allison McGinnis, Michael Koplin’s daughter, at the 2020 Memorial Ceremony held in Prospect Park at Harry’s Wall on November 25, 2020.
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Editor’s Note: Michael wrote this post in July, and it was in the process of being edited for publication before his sudden passing on October 20, 2020.
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