To qualify for the Boston Marathon, I'd have to cover 26.2 miles in 3 hours and 40 minutes. To date, I can run that in 4 hours and 7 minutes.
I joke that one day I'll run Boston, but I'll just age myself out. Wait until the qualifying time is something I can manage. Turns out, I'd have to be nearly 60, I think, to qualify with a 4:07.
I have until I'm 35 to knock 27 minutes off my time. And even then, at 36, I only get an extra 5 minutes. Qualifying time becomes 3:45.
SERIOUSLY. Cut a girl some slack, man.
I've never seriously considered the idea of qualifying for Boston. It's not even on my bucket list. But suddenly, I've got this jolt of ambition. What if I CAN do it? Not, like, in October, but next year. Or the year after. By the time I'm 30. What a goal that would be.
Since my marathon a couple weeks ago, I've spent plenty of time contemplating and planning my training. I'm hell bent on speed work. And training at a specific pace. Strength training and cross training. And I feel good about it.
What if I ramp all of that up in the next three years, and try to qualify one day? Twenty-seven minutes is not a lot in the real world, but 20 miles into a marathon, it's forever.
Of course, I need to break 4 hours first. That'd help. Then I'll worry about the other 20 minutes. The longest 20 minutes ever.