Revenge of the 20 miler

Marathon training schedules generally don't care if you're having a relaxing weekend in the woods. They don't care if you'd rather spend your morning sitting by the lake.  No matter where you are, you have to stick to the schedule.  So my peaceful weekend was briefly disturbed by another raging 20 miler this morning.

I'm at Camp Ockanickon for the weekend, running in the same places in which I trained for my first marathon when I worked here years ago.  The good thing is that camp owns 565 acres on the western tip of the Pine Barrens, which means trails - lots and lots of trails: blissfully uncrowded, devoid of cars and their exhaust, shady, soft trails.  I would estimate 80% of my run this morning was on dirt roads and trails.  It was a nice change of pace from running on concrete sidewalks and asphalt roads all the time.

But a 20 mile run is still a 20 mile run, and I was hurting in the homestretch, especially as the morning temperature crept into the upper 80's.  The only thing that got me through was the thought of jumping in the lake to cool off when I finished.  I didn't even stop to take off my shoes.  I grabbed my Gatorade and ran with it into the waterfront, then to the end of the dock and jumped. I stopped my watch in midair and landed in a cannonball, much to the confusion of those around me.

Truly the only proper way to end a 20 miler

My legs felt better afterwards than they ever have after a 20 miler.  If only I could always end a long run this way.