They say the difference between a dream and a goal is a plan. The appropriate edit should be “the difference between a dream and a goal is an executable plan.” Twelve months ago, the goal was set. The plan was in place. The next step was to execute the plan. Along the way, I learned a lot about running, a lot about myself, and I finished the Chicago marathon before they started sweeping the streets.

Since sixth grade the goal was to run a marathon. Being naïve and invincible, it wasn’t a matter of if but when.  Plans were put into place, but there wasn’t a sense of urgency and sixth graders are easily distracted. So are seventh graders. And forty-year olds. It was more of a dream.

I was in southern New Hampshire in sixth grade which happened in the early 80s. The very early ‘80s. Almost the 70s. Southern New Hampshire is a Boston suburb, and everything Boston-related was magnetic to sixth grade boys. The Red Sox. The Bruins. Larry Bird and the Celtics. Hating the Lakers. Hating the Yankees. And Bill Rogers and the Boston Marathon. Nike, New Balance and the running craze were taking hold. I knew I wanted to run the Boston Marathon and conquer Heartbreak Hill. So I started running. I worked up to 6 miles, then made a jump to 9 miles. That 3 mile jump, combined with walking around school in super heavy, steel-toed hiking boots gave me incredibly painful shin splints. I quit running.  I played sports that required running to train, and I was always among the fastest on my team in distance runs, but I didn’t stick with running for the sake of running.

The dream of running a marathon remained buried somewhere in my mind. Jealousy struck in college when I heard of a rugby teammate who ran a marathon. The dude was in worse shape than I was, evidence by his large beer gut (but countered by his very large, tree-trunk shaped legs which also made him deceptively fast on the field). Later in law school the same thing happened when I learned of other friends training for and completing marathons. Truth was, those friends WERE in better shape. I worked hard. At work. Physically, I was soft.

Finally after law school I dusted off my dream, put a plan around it, and trained for a marathon. Four times. Four times the plan was devised. Four times something jumped in front of the plan. Three times it was an injury, the result of competing with a younger version of the older runner. What would make it different this time?

The difference was a strong commitment to finish. To finally do this. 2013 presented significant professional and financial challenges and a minor physical challenge with an annoying calf and Achilles problem. But the goal of running the marathon remained.

You know what they say . . . the fifth time’s the charm!

At forty-six years old on October 13, 2013, I completed my first marathon in Chicago with my brother and in honor of my wife, a breast cancer survivor and MS fighter (raising over $1,500 for Susan G. Komen along the way). My youngest son and my parents joined me in Chicago to cheer us on. My daughter was sick, so she and my wife cheered via text message and phone calls.

It was an incredible experience on a beautiful sunny day in Chicago. My brother Chris is ten years younger and has been running triathlons for the last few years. He had a far stronger foundation heading into race day, and the ability to run FAR faster. He wanted to hurry up and be done with it. I made sure he took his time and enjoyed the scenery on his first tour though the city of Chicago.

As recently as the week before the race I had problems with my calf and Achilles, so I should’ve been happy to have finished. And I was. I was also disappointed and somewhat embarrassed by my time. Those leg issues kept me off the road for much of the month of August (when my posts on this site ceased), so the fact I finished was definitely an accomplishment. While people said they were impressed, I wasn’t impressed with the results.

So here we are at the end of the year. I’ve spent my time since the marathon working on my next “before” photo, eating unhealthy foods combined with almost no physical activity. And now it’s time to look ahead at 2014.

Yes, I ran a marathon. Yes, I am proud I accomplished that feat. But that really wasn’t the dream back in 6th grade. Maybe that’s why I feel unfulfilled. The dream was to run the Boston Marathon. Hmm . . . To run Boston means I need to qualify. To qualify as an old man in his forty-sixth year, that means I need to run 26.2 miles in less than 3 hours and 25 minutes. That’s less than 7 minutes 49 seconds a mile.

Bring it!

Today was a three mile run. What I learned . . . I have to stop pushing myself. It’s a bad habit. After getting all full of myself for running twelve miles over the weekend, I thought, “This is three miles. Easy peasy. Time for a personal RECORD!” Well . . . that didn't happen.

I also learned I need to start my runs well before the sun comes up, and get enough sleep. Florida summers are brutal if you’re spending time outside on the road. The movie 42 ended around 11:30 last night with my wife and youngest son while my daughter slept on the couch. That voice said, “Spend time with family. This is nice, even if you are going through e-mail on your computer.” I was up at 6am. Applying the 7-hour rule, that isn’t enough sleep for a normal night, not to mention when training for a marathon. The later you take, the hotter it's going to be.

When I’m not running, I work with kids in my spare time. Lately, I’ve been working with a summer program serving disadvantaged kids in downtown Orlando on a goal-setting program called Achieve YOUR Dream! The kids learn how to achieve ANYTHING in the world they want. Within the program, we work on the stories we tell ourselves. We work on the words we use – the stories themselves – and the tone we use to tell them. One of the keys to achievement is being able to control the voice that tells your stories – control WHAT the voice says and HOW the voice says it. Up to this point, we’ve discussed two voices. The STRONG voice tells you to conquer the world, move faster, and that you’re invincible – and it’s done in a firm, convincing fashion. The weak voice tells you to stay in bed, play a few more video games, the workout you’re doing hurts and you should stop, and overall just slow down and relax. The intent is to increase awareness of which voice is speaking to them, and to make sure the STRONG voice kicks the weak voice’s ass every day. To continue to push. To challenge yourself like you’ve never challenged yourself before.

Ironically, it’s my STRONG voice that creates trouble with my training. Counter intuitively, I have to use the STRONG voice to throttle back the intensity of my running. Using the “heart rate strategy” where you keep your heart rate at 180 bpm less your age, I’ve been working hard to keep it at 135 bpm. That voice YELLS at me, “C’MON, you HAVE to be more DISCIPLINED than THIS!!! Slower. You aren’t 30 years old. KEEP IT AT 135 bpm!”

On Saturday’s 12-mile run, I did a decent job of keeping it around 140 bpm for the first half. The second half, it was tough to keep it under 150 bpm because of the heat. It was because of that discipline that I finished twelve miles in really good shape. Hot and sweaty, but limited pain in my calves and Achilles. Tight in the quads, tight in the calves and feet, but overall I was very happy given the problems I’ve been having with my lower legs.

Today was supposed to be 3 easy miles. I salivated, thinking “I just ran twelve miles. This will be AWESOME and EASY! I should NAIL this with an old man PR for 3 miles” (my lifetime PR for 3 miles is at a 6:18 per mile clip). That’s when trouble came back to town. No new old man PR. And my right Achilles is back to being a problem. I needed a third voice to speak up. The Voice of Reason, which is a voice of maturity, needs to temper the enthusiasm of the STRONG voice. The STRONG voice should only come into play when the weak voice starts to talk. My heart rate hovered around 155 bpm for most of the run.

Tomorrow, it’s back to the gym to push my feet up and down on the Stairmaster for six miles. This weekend is thirteen. And time to control the voices a bit better.

I started this site to log my journey to 26.2 miles in October. I intentionally left it nameless and faceless – although I’ve violated that a bit by sharing the link on my status on Facebook. I assume I’m not unlike many people in the world, busy with the day-to-day, managing the challenges of what it means to be successful (happy marriage, accomplishments at work) with what it means to be a good parent (focused time with the family) with what it means to care for yourself so you can put every ounce of energy into all things that matter. For most of us – me included – that last one has been ignored. Until lately.

Keeping with the anonymous nature of this blog, the image from today’s run is not of me, but of my competitor. My competitor is always stronger than I am, and is either always in front of me, or right behind me. When he’s behind me, I can’t see him. But I know he’s there. When he’s in front of me, he motivates me and I push hard to catch him, but never do. He never sweats. He never looks down. He never struggles. And he pushes me every single day, both on the road and in the office.

Today’s run was 3 miles. Tomorrow’s run will be 5. Thursday will be 3 miles again. And my competitor will show up either right in front of me, or right behind me.