It's coming. Again.

So, funny: I was reading my old blog from 2009 when I ran Boston the first time.  Know what I did before I ran it?  Cut all my hair off.  Kind of weird, right?  I guess something about running Boston makes me want to cut all my hair off.  I'm more streamlined that way.
Sunday was the much vaunted and anxiety-inducing 23 miler.  I haven't run that far since 2011, so I had no small number of gremlins in my head as I drove from North Van to Kits alone, as Michael had to work very late on Saturday night and opted to do his long run on his own.
The clinic was scheduled to run 19 miles, but I was slated to run 23 and opted to add on four miles in the UBC area, and to meet up with C around mile 15 in the hopes that he would help me through the final eight miles of the run which I would otherwise have to do alone.
My mom was cool enough to come out and give me a hug as we ran by her place at around the three mile mark.  And, yet again for long run #3 the weather was stellar.  I remember training for a spring marathon once and having to do a 5k predictive run which took me close to half an hour because the route was essentially a sheet of ice.  We have been blessed weather-wise for our long training runs this clinic.
Around 13 miles I had to peel away from my group and tack on the additional four miles.  Unfortunately some of UBC was blocked off due to some sort of bike race and so I immediately got lost.  Fortunately, because I get lost every three days or so, I have no compunction when it comes to asking for directions (case in point: after I parked my car at work today I flagged a coworker down so she could refresh me as to where the Finance offices were, since I hadn't been there in three days) and so a friendly, indebted, bookish, idealistic liberal arts student pointed me in the right direction.  I was like "Thanks!  And good luck with your "book".  See you at Calhoun's!".
Okay, maybe I read more into that exchange than was actually there.
Found C, who was appropriately hungover since most people my age do fun things on Saturday night instead of abstaining from alcohol, going to bed early and getting up at 6.45am in order to run for 3.5 hours.  I knew he might give me the gears a little bit.  He let me have a quick washroom break and stretch a few kilometres from the finish, but then he did the whole "let's run really fast until we pass that sign in the distance" gambit which made me tired and angry.
Oh wait: everything makes me tired an angry.
We wrapped it up, running past my dad's bench.  I don't know what it is about his bench but someone is ALWAYS sitting on it..  Seriously: two thirds of the benches were empty.  Ah, but I'm glad people can sit there and enjoy the beautiful view on a bench that is next to the pool where he was a lifeguard, and which is a stone's throw from the house he grew up in on McNicoll Avenue.
It was a good run given that I haven't run that far since I ran the Chicago marathon in 2011.  I felt good, I recovered nicely, my time (for - I think - roughly 24 miles) was 3:30.  A beauty day in a gorgeous city, and a great way to wrap up the most strenuous portion of my training.
And I'm not getting the jacket.  I already have a Boston jacket that I don't wear, but I do want the hoodie.
Also, you should buy The Lumineers' album.