I want to run Boston. And I want to run it in 2016.
Don’t get me wrong. I would love to run in 2015, and Erie would be a great course to qualify on. But my training data shows that I’m nowhere near where I was a year ago. With the setback and my current level of fitness, I’d be thrilled just to PR. It would take an absolute miracle to run a sub-4, and I think it’s safe to say the only way I’m pulling a 3:40 in September is if I’m divinely transported, as Philip was in Acts 8:26-40.
So I have set my sights on 2016 and signed up for the Utah Valley Marathon next June, where the gentle downhill course is probably my best chance to qualify. Yes, I know it’s crazy to sign up for a race that’s a year away so that I can run one nearly two years away. And I know I could train my butt off and still fail. But even if I do, I think I become a better runner and a better person for trying. I’m already seeing the fruit of this decision in the way it’s changed my perspective on training for Erie.
With his business coaching clients, my dad has a saying:
Do today what will matter tomorrow.
The Yasso 800’s I ran this week? Not just for Erie. Those were for Boston 2016. The long run I did today? Ditto. Passing up freshly baked chocolate chip cookies? You better believe it.
I was already enjoying running each day. Being sidelined for six months has a way of making you appreciate each day that you’re not confined to the couch. The joy of running has been amplified by excitement about Erie, about getting back to 26.2 and seeing what I can do at that distance. But I’m finding even stronger drive to overcome challenges when I think about the result not just two months from now but two years from now.
Considering this new perspective has also caused me to ask: How do I apply this principle spiritually? How will the impact of today’s choices reach beyond two months or two years and into eternity?