It's been ten days now, and I suppose I can get over it. No longer am I sad. The tears were empty long ago. No longer am I pouting. Now I'm downright angry. Angry at myself, angry at the sport. Angry that lesser runners than me ran that race in Philadelphia and qualified because of some arbitrary time limit.
I was riddled with self doubt going into Philadelphia. Every time I've gone to a marathon I've had doubt. But make no mistake. This time, there is no room for failure. I've got a new purpose. Sure, Boston is the goal, but I don't want it to be that close. I want there to be no doubt this time around.
Having already chopped over 45 minutes off my first marathon finish, including over 10 minutes in my last race, I'm gunning for a 3:00 finish. That will leave no doubt regarding Boston.
I've carried that pace (6:52 miles) for a 10k already. Why not? I'm refining my training with a much more focused plan of hill training and speed work. Then I'll choose a pancake flat course and put this to rest once and for all.
Boston, 2009. Mark it down.
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