The biological clock

I talked to a friend today who just began a year-long plan to train for a marathon and then run it fast enough to qualify for Boston. A worthy goal, I told him. But I also wondered why he would choose such a lofty goal when he has a demanding job and three young daughters at home who will be competing for his attention. "I don't know Dave," he answered. "I just felt my biological clock ticking." Funny how mid-life will do that to you. I'm 47, nearly 48, and my best running years are way behind me. As I was walking the dog tonight, I thought back to what happened to those years, that span of about 18 years from when I quit the JC track team to the time I began running the trails of the Del Monte Forest with my daughter. Rugby, college, the newspaper job, getting married, learning to be a husband (an on-going process), having kids and learning to be a dad (a never-ending process). All things I wouldn't change. My peak physical years were spent changing diapers, pulling all-nighters on writing assignments, mowing the lawn (something I probably should have done more of). But I don't regret it and I don't regret that I probably won't see huge improvements in my running. I know I can't point to a target four years away and say I'll be so much faster when that time comes. That time has come and gone. The alarm has gone off on the biological clock.

P.S. - What's the qualifying time in the 50 and over category for Boston?