Taper Schmaper

I guess it's all downhill from here. The last long training run is done and over. The next long run will be exactly 26.2 miles long. The real deal, the big shebang, the grand poo-bah. The marathon.

Abby is gallivanting in Vegas this weekend so the typical weekend long run was switched to Thursday, on an afternoon that turned out to be the dictionary definition of perfect running weather. Our attempt at a "nice easy slow run" was easier said than done- taking us several miles before we were able to slow our pace appropriately.

The weather today was positively summerish. We had one day of spring last Saturday, then another cold spell and now it's time for summer. Nothing like jumping right from cool 40 degree weather straight to the 90s with no middle ground. I felt the need to run today. After all, it's the weekend. Sans my training partner for the weekend, I met Ali for a run this morning. I had strict instructions to not run too much. I decided that 6 miles would do the trick: get enough energy out, but not over do it. It was certainly not my best run (humid weather and oddly sore muscles to blame I guess) but it did the trick. Mission accomplished.

Following the run, I took the opportunity to stretch for a l-o-n-g time. I assumed that my quads burning while I was running was a not-so-subtle sign from my body telling me that I needed to stretch. I took my time stretching, enjoying the weather and people watching from behind the Art Museum. At one point two runners ran by, stopping when the got to the sidewalk leading up to the museum. I noticed that they had Texas A&M singlets on (likely in town for the Penn Relay and out for a quick jog). It seemed as if they knew where they were going, but confusion and disappointment came over them as they looked around.

"I thought there were more," one said as they continued to walk past me and up towards the museum.

"Yeah, me too," the other responded.

I quickly realized the problem.

"Are you looking for the Rocky steps?" I asked.

Excitedly, they both said yes and nodded. The 20 or so steps that lead up to the back of the museum are not nearly as impressive and monumental as those made famous by a sweatsuit and Chuck Taylor clad Sylvester Stallone.

"They're on the other side," I said, and pointed them in the right direction. "And yes, they're are more."

There's always more on the other side.