2008 Woodie Awards
In Training: Thoughts on Marathon Preparation
Editor's Note: Dan O'Brien '09 and J.T. Scanlan, Ph.D., associate professor of English are both training for the United States Marine Corps Marathon in Washington, D.C, at the end of October. They will be sharing their thoughts on what it is like to tra
Issue date: 10/2/08 Section: Sports
The Professor
By J.T. Scanlan
Guest Columnist
When I returned from Philadelphia, I immediately, and vaingloriously, positioned my medal (all finishers received one) in a prominent place in my house. I thought it might serve as a gently comic assertion of my surprising athletic prowess as I slouch into middle age.
But it's having an unexpected, and perhaps dangerous, effect. It's seduced me into believing that I can afford to take a few days off. And with the Marine Corps Marathon only four weeks away, "resting" too long might not be a very good idea.
In the afterglow of the Philly run, I confidently took a few days off, and, finding myself ravenously hungry, preferred consuming ample helpings of pasta to suiting up yet again for late-afternoon 5-milers. Those big baguette sandwiches at Slavin had even more appeal than usual for me, too, especially when garnished with a few bags of chips.
I'll get in a long run on Sunday, I rationalized. Prepping for my long Sunday run, I spent last Saturday afternoon concocting a Brobdingnagian salad to go with my standard deep dish of pasta. I can't remember ever having so much fun carbo-re-loading.
The weather on Sunday morning resembled the weather predicted for my Block Island Run-a tropical storm. By mid-morning, the streets were flooded. "What if I slip on those wet leaves," I mused. By late morning, I was sitting in my chair, reading.
By the end of the day, I could tell I was becoming sluggish, both physically and mentally. My college workload and writing schedule would intensify during the week, I knew, and by late Sunday--the time at which academic melancholy typically sets in-I realized I'd finished only a half marathon. The Marine Corps Marathon would be no jaunt through beautiful Fairmont Park. I was a bit scared.
Monday morning, I rose at 5:30 and immediately put on an old Marine Marathon shirt and zipped through a 7-miler. I actually chanted a few of the "cadences" I've learned over the years. HOOO-yah!! It's strange: the rhythmical chanting does keep you going.
By J.T. Scanlan
Guest Columnist
When I returned from Philadelphia, I immediately, and vaingloriously, positioned my medal (all finishers received one) in a prominent place in my house. I thought it might serve as a gently comic assertion of my surprising athletic prowess as I slouch into middle age.
But it's having an unexpected, and perhaps dangerous, effect. It's seduced me into believing that I can afford to take a few days off. And with the Marine Corps Marathon only four weeks away, "resting" too long might not be a very good idea.
In the afterglow of the Philly run, I confidently took a few days off, and, finding myself ravenously hungry, preferred consuming ample helpings of pasta to suiting up yet again for late-afternoon 5-milers. Those big baguette sandwiches at Slavin had even more appeal than usual for me, too, especially when garnished with a few bags of chips.
I'll get in a long run on Sunday, I rationalized. Prepping for my long Sunday run, I spent last Saturday afternoon concocting a Brobdingnagian salad to go with my standard deep dish of pasta. I can't remember ever having so much fun carbo-re-loading.
The weather on Sunday morning resembled the weather predicted for my Block Island Run-a tropical storm. By mid-morning, the streets were flooded. "What if I slip on those wet leaves," I mused. By late morning, I was sitting in my chair, reading.
By the end of the day, I could tell I was becoming sluggish, both physically and mentally. My college workload and writing schedule would intensify during the week, I knew, and by late Sunday--the time at which academic melancholy typically sets in-I realized I'd finished only a half marathon. The Marine Corps Marathon would be no jaunt through beautiful Fairmont Park. I was a bit scared.
Monday morning, I rose at 5:30 and immediately put on an old Marine Marathon shirt and zipped through a 7-miler. I actually chanted a few of the "cadences" I've learned over the years. HOOO-yah!! It's strange: the rhythmical chanting does keep you going.
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