I finished the month of March with 225 miles.
81 miles at easy pace
34 miles at marathon pace
5 miles of intervals (ouch)
87 miles of long runs (with 41 faster than marathon pace)
17 miles of tempo pace. (double ouch)
I’m thinking more about Boston than I care to admit. I know I’m fooling myself about the lack of importance the race has for me. It really wasn’t so important a month ago, but now, it would be a waste to perform poorly given what I think I’m capable of.
At least this is a different level of worry from my previous marathons. I’m confident in my ability. It’s all the other variables that concern me. And, regardless of my performance, I know I’ll be ok with it the next day. Come to think of it, I’m not so concerned.
