The first 16 weeks of my training plan for the Boston Marathon, which began with a 10-mile run down the Las Vegas Strip the morning of the Vikings-Raiders game on Dec. 10, had been draped in meteorological good fortune. I’d done a 15-mile workout in 50-degree weather on Dec. 23 and ran in shorts at least once every month from December to March. The El Niño winter meant my Yaktrax, the slip-on cleats that runners use for traction on snow and ice, hadn’t been taken out of the closet once.
It was March 24, three days after the official start of spring, when Minnesota’s winter threw its one good punch of the year: A snowstorm that was forecast to dump nearly a foot of snow on the Twin Cities meant I’d have to leave for the NFL owners’ meetings in Orlando ahead of the storm, and reschedule my last long runs of the training block. I moved my flight to Florida from Sunday night to Sunday morning, stuffed all my marathon gear into my suitcase and started researching routes for a 17-mile run in Orlando.
The first 14 miles of that Monday morning run had gone splendidly, to the point I was worried I might have run a little too fast three weeks before a marathon. But the text message I saw on my Garmin watch from Vikings executive vice president and chief communications officer Jeff Anderson proved the fast pace had been necessary: Vikings coach Kevin O’Connell would be free to talk with reporters a half-hour earlier than scheduled, meaning I’d need all the time I’d just bought myself to clean up after the run, drive to the Ritz-Carlton Grande Lakes and work my way through the sprawling hotel to the spot where the interview session would be held.
Those drawn to the marathon often revel in its simplicity, of the months spent following a neatly prepared training regimen in pursuit of a certain goal on one day. As Kara Goucher, the Duluth East graduate who finished 10th in the marathon during her second Olympics in 2012, put it on KFAN-FM on Sunday, “You have to just put in a lot of work and rest a lot. It’s very un-fabulous: getting up, doing the morning run, resting, doing the afternoon run, seeing the miles tick up and the strength you’re gaining along the way. But I really loved the monotony of it.”
Life as an NFL beat writer, by contrast, is often a series of sprints, toward a newspaper deadline that’s hours away or a breaking news story that must be filed in minutes. Your schedule is rarely yours to control; attempts to structure your life independent of the NFL news cycle can amount to foolhardy attempts to flout Murphy’s Law. For this beat writer, preparing for an April 15 marathon, through the end of the Vikings regular season and an offseason that held franchise-altering news stories, seemed almost as treacherous as training through the winter weather that never really came.
Fortunately, I was as well prepared for the time-management tightrope as I could get.