The 2025 Boston Diaries: Chapter 11
Starting to believe
I’ve been searching for something for two weeks. A sign things are getting better; that I am closer to where I want (need?) to be in my training cycle. Day after day, I’ve trudged to the apartment gym. Day after day, I’ve fired up the treadmill, hoping to get farther into the run without pain than I did the previous day. Day after day.
After Monday’s five-mile run, I decided a day off from running would help. I was bumping up against a ceiling. Similar pain — not awful anymore, but still something — was there, at the same spot, run after run. I hoped a day on the bike would help.
It did.
On Wednesday, I lasted longer on the treadmill before the pain arrived. The Boston Marathon medal dropped that morning, and even though I was done running by the time I saw it, my spirits were suddenly lifted.
The medal looks good.
I again felt a little bit better on Thursday, before Friday brought more of the same. I got home after Friday’s run, again shrugging my shoulders when Riss asked the run went.
“Not where I want to be,” I told her.
With the weather finally, finally, turning at the end of the week, I was nervously excited about getting outside again, a first since my hamstring issues first popped up a couple weeks back.
I added some new stretches at the end of the week, focusing on difference types of movements that could (would?) help me out. After doing them Friday night, I woke up Saturday morning and… felt better than I had any morning in two weeks.
“Hamstring hasn’t felt this good during the morning in two weeks. Nervous but excited to see if it’s better,” I texted Riss before I prepared to head to Flanagan.
“That's awesome!” she responded, before adding, “Don't push it too hard.”
There’s nothing like those first few runs when the temps finally start climbing and signs of spring show itself. That alone had my spirits much higher. Everything else was going to be a bonus.
And wouldn’t you know it, I did feel better. Not perfect, but as good as I had in two weeks. The worst part of the run was when I got a “LOW BATTERY” notification in my headphones. A much better “worst part” of a run than anything I had dealt with in 14 days.
I woke up feeling similarly on Sunday. I was ready to go and hoped to push my run past six miles, which I hadn’t done since February 8th. I decided to take off from my apartment and ended up trudging through some snow here and there along my way to Flanagan. It was my first run with any sort of real elevation change in a couple weeks.
My hamstring? It felt great. I allowed gravity down a couple hills to do it’s job and as I peeked down at my watch and saw 6:xx pace, I checked in on things. “How are you feeling?” I asked myself. Good. “You sure?” Yep.
I have done that constantly in the last two weeks. To finally get the answers I was hoping for? So, so needed.
I’m going to continue to follow Riss’ advice for the next week, at least. Don’t push too hard. I think I’m on the other side of things, but there’s no reason to run a hard workout just yet and overdo it. Boston is eight weeks from this morning. For the first time in two weeks, I’m believing that the race doesn’t have to be the end of a horrible training block.
This week in podcasting:
Blake Reinke first popped on my radar because of the Chipotle Challenge, which he participated in (and almost won) in 2024. It was so fun discussing that, but also diving into his running streak — eight years strong — as well as why he’s been drawn into the ultra scene lately. Hope you check it out!
This week’s pod is brought to you by Fleet Feet Omaha, the title sponsor of Chasing Three Hours. Stop by one of the two locations in Omaha or their location in Lincoln, mention Chasing Three Hours, and you can get $15 off your first pair of running shoes!
The log:
February 17th: 5 miles
February 18th: 14.8 miles on the bike
February 19th: 4 miles
February 20th: 6 miles
February 21st: 5 miles
February 22nd: 6 miles
February 23rd: 8.36 miles
Total: 34.36 miles
Year to date: 389.24 miles
February 17th: Why did I decide to take a day off from running Tuesday? Because Monday wasn’t what I wanted. I upped the pace a little bit to 7.5-miles per hour, an 8:00 pace, but three miles in, I had to dial things back. I frustratedly made my way back home — nine weeks from race day — at my lowest point yet. I was caught in my feels, big time. It’s wild to think how I feel about everything just seven days later.
I ended up averaging 8:13-per mile with my heart rate at 117 throughout. Great on the metrics, terrible on the vibes.
February 18th: The ride was good for me. I rode for 40 minutes and while I was bored out of my mind, I definitely think a day like this was needed. I got close to 15 miles and was ready to get back on the trail (err, treadmill) the next morning.
February 19th: I only ran four on Wednesday — 7.5 mph, 8:00-per, HR averaging 123 — but it went much better than Monday. Throw in the medal reveal and my spirits were improving. “Even if race day isn’t what I hope it to be, the medal is badass,” I told myself. That helped.
February 20th: Vibes continued to climb on Thursday as I ran six more on the treadmill. I dialed the pace back again, running all six at 7.0 mph/8:34-per mile. My HR was higher than it had been at any point all week, averaging 126, but I chalked that up to a later night because of work and less sleep than normal. I was more focused on how much pain I was feeling, and it was again lessening.
February 21st: Friday’s run was was solid until it wasn’t. I upped the pace back up to 7.5 mph/8:00-per before clicking it back to 7.0/8:34 for the final mile. “So close, yet so far,” I wrote afterwards on Strava. I felt like I was hitting that ceiling again. I shrugged my shoulders when Riss asked how it went.
I took extra care with my stretching later that night, practically willing myself to get better. Hoping to unlock whatever I needed. And wouldn’t you know it…
February 22nd: Yes.
Yes yes yes.
How much of Saturday was just being outside again, with the sun beating down on me? Perhaps some, for sure. But I felt better. The extra stretching showed. The focus on everything with my body showed. I made my way around Flanagan and almost set off for one more, but I kept thinking about what Riss said.
Don’t push it too hard.
So, I didn’t. I stopped right at six miles. I bounced around the rest of the day — running errands around Omaha, packing for our impending move, and yes, doing my stretches — hoping to feel no signs of pushing too hard.
I felt none.
February 23rd: Sunday rocked, plain and simple. 8+ miles, 8:17-per, with my HR averaging 134. I had some of those moments where I caught myself smiling — caught myself being happy — that I hadn’t had in weeks.
I don’t know what’s possible in eight weeks, truly. I don’t know where I’ll be or what I’ll be aiming for.
But, I’m starting to believe that I’ll be able to set off at the 2025 Boston Marathon with some sort of goal in mind.
I can’t wait to see what that goal is.
Great job. Keep doing what you do to prep each day for that day! Get to the starting line healthy and let the training and your heart do the work!
Awesome to hear this news. Dealing with an injury, especially as a race draws near is so stressful. Keep listening to your body and doing the little things like stretching more or a little yoga and you will be back to full speed soon. So excited to see you achieve this dream. Happy Training!