Five days. FIVE. And race predictions.

Oh shit. Five Days. Which actually means YAY FIVE DAYS (it does, I'm pumped.)

We have things to talk about. Important, critical things.
Last week I finished up all of my hard workouts, 800's, mile repeats, everything went according to plan. I felt awesome, things were going swimmingly.
Of course, I was careful to monitor my recovery. Snowbank ice baths included.

Sitting in a snowbank is cold and stupid.

On Saturday I began to experience my normal phase of 'OMG. I'm broken" phantom taper pains, which I have grown to love over the years and more or less ignore.
Here are a list of my favorites:
-sharp stabby ankle pain
-a funny feeling in my foot that is tendontis *for sure*
-sore back
-sick. gettin' some kinda sick.
-bad feelings in general
-hate

I have learned to ignore all of that nonsence and move along with my damn day, ain't nobody got time for that.

And then.... I went out to run on Sunday and discovered that I had a FOR REAL pain.
FOR REAL YOU GUYS!!!

OK, ignore those panicky caps.
I did have a pulled muscle in my thigh. I knew how I got it (horses, curse you!) and I was smart enough to call it a day and not act like some kind of ninja hero.

Monday I was 80% better.
Tuesday I was fine.

Crisis averted. Until the stabby pain comes back, that is.
I plan to continue my snowbank recovery methods and excellent foam rolling techniques to avoid as much real life pain as possible.

Quality time on the roller. Silly pets. UGH!

In relevant news...
So, in a truly shocking internet moment I am ready to declare my finishing time prediction.
3:27:51

-According to the McMillan calculator my 800's indicate that I shall run this race in 4:41:00 which is just absurd. Hahaha! I got slow!
-According to the McMillan calculator my 13.1 time indicates that I shall run in 3:23:00 which I see as optimistic. Boston is crowded. Has hilllllllzzzzzzz. Is 26.2 miles long. CRAP.
But honestly, the takeaway story from this is that I suck big time at 800's.

On a sidenote it has honestly occurred to be to leave Hopkington at a BLAZING pace and see how long I can maintain it, just for shits and gigs (but I won't do that. that would lead to certain death at mile 16 or, best case scenario, projectile vomiting and the worrying feeling that I might crap my pants which I would prefer to avoid. who knows why..) If doom was not a 100% guarantee, or is a marathon was only a mile long I'd definitely be down for this time of tomfoolery. However, in real life no thanks.

I will close out my blog of profound thoughts today with a preview of my future...
A future event that I am delight to be experiencing with a few of my favorite Maine runners!
(Chicago isn't ready...)

EXCITED