Beginning of week 4: the Marathon Diaries.
Twenty-six point two miles never felt farther to me. Currently in the training schedule, I don’t run close to that much in a WEEK. Let alone one, single, run. Holy cow, what am I doing?
Maybe that’s why I’ve put off registering…
No, I have a better reason why I’ve put off registering, I’m waiting to see how my knee/IT band does once I’m up a little more mileage, basically, this week, and next will tell. If you see me passed out on the side of the road some morning, you’ll know that: 1) I probably won’t be running the PDX Marathon after all and 2) that I may be in need of your assistance. Call 911 and come help me. Hopefully I won’t already be dead.
You know, when I tell people that I’m training for a Marathon, everyone seems to get the same look of shock, amazement and terror in their eyes as they reply, “YOU ARE???”. I laugh. They stand there shocked a few moments more. Then they say, “Wow, I could never do that, I’m not a runner, I hate running”. To that, I reply, “me too, I hate running, I was a cheerleader in High School and never ran more than a mile until I was probably… 20”.
Truth is, I’m not really a runner at heart, but there are a lot of things I’m learning to love about it. Once you get over the “wall”… which usually takes a while… I don’t think I have in the past 3 weeks… Once the wall is broken, your legs become wings, and you could run forever. Mentally you come to a place of triumph, and you soar down the road and leave clouds of dust behind you. It’s an amazing feeling. I can’t wait to get back to that. Hopefully this week.
Anyway, I’ve been trying to get into a routine of getting up early and running. Let’s just say I haven’t been successful. This morning, as I lay lifeless in bed, with my nose still throbbing in pain from how many times I had blown it yesterday, I suddenly woke up, seeing the dim dawn light coming through my curtains. I rolled over to glance at my phone to see the time was: 5:54 a.m. Of course my first thought was “wow, I should really get up and go running now”… but instead of listening to that still small voice, I tried to sleep a little longer. As the minutes slowly passed by, it was like my shoes were calling me. They wanted to run. 6:02 a.m., I jump up, gaze out my window and stare at the allergy infested grassland around me, I thought once again about going back to bed, but somehow my arms reached for my running shoes instead. This was a truly out of body experience.
So yeah, I ran early this morning. Short run, just 3 miles. (And yes, there was once a day when a “short run” was more like five steps, but these days, 3 and 4 milers are short. Wow, I’m a runner.)
Well, if you care, you’ve finished this blog. I’ll keep you all updated on how my body is surviving this venture.
10.10.10. If I’m still alive and make it to race day.
somehow beautiful 