Bye Bye Boston

Why I'm Not Toeing the Start Line on Monday

Hey crew,

We’re coming to you this Friday with a slightly different vibe. Usually, our weekly writing is a mix of both our brains mashed together: shared decisions, lessons, stories, etc. But this one’s more personal.

Why? Because we figured it would be confusing (and probably a little weird) to talk in the plural voice about me not running Boston. So here we go, my side of the story, solo style.

If you’ve been following along on earlier Substacks or over on our YouTube (which, if you’re not subscribed to… what are you even doing?), you probably know I planned to spend the winter/spring focused on roads. After a mediocre (but somehow still decently timed?) day at CIM, I got the bug. I wanted another crack at it. I wanted to prove to myself that I hadn’t totally lost that top-end speed I used to have in college.

So Eli and I decided: let’s go all in. Road season. Full speed block. Respectable times. No, I wasn’t gunning for top American at Boston — lol — but I was excited to put up something I’d be proud of and do better than at CIM.

Now, if you know us, you know we don’t do anything halfway. We’re big believers in “whole-assing” our efforts. So I dove headfirst into the rabbit hole: pro marathon YouTube, articles, workouts, training theories. Obsessed is probably a generous way to put it. I had a spreadsheet for my spreadsheets. Eli was deep in Black Canyon prep, and I was deep in “become a road dawg” mode.

And on paper, the plan looked great: two road halfs and then Boston. Very clean. Very professional. Very adult.

But then… yeah. I remembered why I left this world in the first place.

I forgot about the part where roads made me feel boxed in. Where everything became about splits and pacing and the right surface and the right shoes and whether or not I hit the right paces on a Tuesday tempo. I forgot how track and road running used to make me feel like I was holding my breath instead of breathing it all in.

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The trail world healed that for me. It made me love running again…the messy, joyful, totally non-linear kind. But here I was, back in split-chasing mode, working myself up over every session, ditching trail recovery runs and fun days on skis or snowbikes to keep my legs fresh for the next big road workout.

And it started to show. Both of my halfs were fine on paper but didn’t match what my training suggested I was capable of. Why? Because by the time I showed up to the start lines, I was already cooked. Physically and mentally.

Sure, I was getting faster. Yes, I was improving my economy. But I was also resenting every run, skipping the things I love, and turning something that usually fills my cup into… a job.

So yeah, I pulled the plug on Boston. I quit. I gave up. I bailed. And I’m completely okay with that.

Because here’s the deal: I race because I love it. I train because it makes me feel more me. And if I’m not waking up excited to chase something, then what’s the point? There are so many runners out there who would kill for a Boston start line spot — and I didn’t feel like I was doing that opportunity justice.

Eli and I zoomed out and asked: what actually matters to me this season? What are we building toward? And when I looked at it honestly… Boston wasn’t it.

So this Monday, I’ll be sipping coffee at home and shaking out easy before racing Canyons 50K on Saturday … something I am fired up for.

This wasn’t an easy call. But sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is ask yourself, Am I happy? And if the answer’s no — you pivot. You change it. You don’t just keep forcing something that doesn’t fit.

Thanks for being here, even when the story isn’t wrapped up with a neat bow. See you out on the dirt.

– Tabor

1. Photo by: Dan King