One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, TWELVE

Anticipating a frigid bout of wintry mix in the Greater Boston area this morning, I moved my regularly scheduled Saturday long run to Friday (yesterday). Anyone in Massachusetts can see clearly today that, though brisk, it's quite lovely outside (and by quite lovely, I mean a typical New England winter day). Thanks for the accurate forecast, Nicolas.

I've been feeling a little bit of pain lately on the top of my left foot; a diagnosis from Dr. Mom revealed that I've likely been tying my shoes a little too tightly. This ought to come as no surprise to those who know me and my penchant for very skinny jeans. I re-laced the ol' Brooks sneakers, threw on some very stylish new gear courtesy of Hannukah Harry and the fine folks at City Sports, wore my mom's snazzy Garmin watch, and hit the road for one of my most favorite runs yet: a 12-miler from the Boston Common in the center of downtown all the way out to our bucolic (sort of...) suburb outside the city.

Apart from having an opportunity to show off my very chic new Nike outerwear, I was looking forward to this one for a number of reasons.

• First, I've never run 12 miles before. As I mentioned in a previous post, as soon as TnT hit the 10-mile mark, each run going forward would be my longest-yet. This lends an added element of accomplishment to each Saturday bout of hauling ass and further legitimizes my post-run gorging. If you're curious, yesterday's snacks of choice were Raisinets, Chinese food, and beer. Hurray for a very balanced lifestyle.
• Second, I've never done a long run by myself. Running with my six or seven TnT compatriots is a social affair; everyone talks for the bulk of the workout and, as a result, it rarely feels like we've been pounding the pavement for ninety minutes. I was a little nervous about being out alone on the road with only my thoughts (iPods are for wimps, people) and holiday traffic to guide me along. Moreoever, I rely on teammates for pacing. Quick theory interlude: When going out for a long run during a marathon training program, you don't want to be a speed demon; you save the really fast runs for shorter distances or interval workouts. I have a very hard time keeping myself at a consistent, steady pace. Often I'll dart out too quickly and not even realize it. We aim for around an 8:00 minute/mile pace on Saturday workouts.
• Which brings me to my third point: I was very excited to try out a Garmin watch to help with the aforementioned pacing. As I couldn't just run along with the pack, I tried out my mom's very sophisticated Garmin watch. It tells you time, distance, and PACE. A glance down every couple minutes (or if you're obsessive like me, every twenty seconds) will tell you how fast you're actually going and enable you to make a conscious, deliberate decision to slow down or speed up. Or go home and eat.

That being said, as soon as I made my way around the Common, I knew things were going to be just fine. I went out a bit too fast (my first mile was at a 7:46 pace; it should have been an 8:30) but found that the combination of taking in new scenery and the rush of being alone propelled me well. I was reading an old issue of Runner's World yesterday and laughed when I read about people singing to themselves on long runs alone. Well, thank you, Jonathan Larson. For whatever reason, repeating whole verses from everyone's favorite rock musical Rent pushed me over the Mass Pike. La vie boheme, indeed.

I was too caught up in keeping track of my pace and actually making my way home safely (despite the fact that I ran almost exclusively on one very long street) to engage in weighty intellectual discussions with myself. I found that for the bulk of the run, my head was empty, my thoughts more concerned with the practicalities ahead. Only when I got home did I realize that a good 10 miles or so were part of the Boston Marathon course.

That one's another goal for another time. Yesterday's 7:50 minute/mile average pace is accomplishment enough for right now. And that means more Raisinets when my brother and I go see Avatar later today.