Well, well, well here we are. 46 days. 7 Saturdays. 2 course dress rehearsals. Then it is GO TIME.
Training is going great. Can I say that? It's my third marathon so I have something to compare to but this is like no other. This is Boston. I am running for charity and life is totally different then the first and second time I set out for 26.2 (because it always is, isn't it?).
I have a baby who sleeps in my bed and wakes up a lot to nurse or cuddle or play pat-a-cake on my forehead at 2am. I put in a lot of time in the office and at night after the girls are asleep building my career. I have fundraisers to attend, beers to drink, friends to enjoy, a husband to cherish. I am tired. I am sore. I have thirteen other things I should be doing right now. But here I am and I am doing it and putting, ahem, my best foot forward.
BUT I really truly trust in my training. I get out there and get the miles under my feet every Saturday. I make it to the Pilates class by run club hosts every Monday. I wake up at 3:30 on Wednesdays and run 2 miles to a hill and run up and down it 4 times (3 miles) and then run the 2 miles home. 7 before 7 (before 6, even).
The common denominator here is glaringly obvious: friends. I could NOT do this without them. Long runs are hours spent catching up and talking about life, kids, work, dreams, the best type of sports bra and how not to poop your pants. Shit gets real out there, pun intended. What other hobby makes it so that you get hours alone with people with no texting or kids or interruptions? We stop to tie shoes and fuel and let cars go by but then we push on, and on, and at the end we sweaty high five and go home to be mothers and teachers and nurses and wives and everything that we are. I am so inspired by these women (and men!) and I cannot imagine running up a g'damn hill at 5 in the morning with anyone else.
Also, let's take a moment of silence to give thanks to my coach who makes sure I have my miles, my fuel, my head in the game and takes the bulk of dance class duty and Saturday afternoon crazies so I can take a nap after 17 miles. That husband of mine is a SAINT and to think that I would drop him off for his long runs and let him know how stupid running is on my way to get a breakfast sandwich when he was training for Boston. What a jerk! (Sorry, boo, I love you so, so much and I owe you one hell of a training season when you are up this fall and you were totally right about running not being that stupid).
So, here we are. 46 days to go. $3500 dollars more to raise for an organization that changed my life and makes Boston a better place to live by filling much needed services with volunteers. That is just $80 a day to raise until Marathon Monday.
Thanks for following along, putting in miles with me, donating money, feeding me food - you all know who you are and I love you for it.
Training is going great. Can I say that? It's my third marathon so I have something to compare to but this is like no other. This is Boston. I am running for charity and life is totally different then the first and second time I set out for 26.2 (because it always is, isn't it?).
I have a baby who sleeps in my bed and wakes up a lot to nurse or cuddle or play pat-a-cake on my forehead at 2am. I put in a lot of time in the office and at night after the girls are asleep building my career. I have fundraisers to attend, beers to drink, friends to enjoy, a husband to cherish. I am tired. I am sore. I have thirteen other things I should be doing right now. But here I am and I am doing it and putting, ahem, my best foot forward.
BUT I really truly trust in my training. I get out there and get the miles under my feet every Saturday. I make it to the Pilates class by run club hosts every Monday. I wake up at 3:30 on Wednesdays and run 2 miles to a hill and run up and down it 4 times (3 miles) and then run the 2 miles home. 7 before 7 (before 6, even).
The common denominator here is glaringly obvious: friends. I could NOT do this without them. Long runs are hours spent catching up and talking about life, kids, work, dreams, the best type of sports bra and how not to poop your pants. Shit gets real out there, pun intended. What other hobby makes it so that you get hours alone with people with no texting or kids or interruptions? We stop to tie shoes and fuel and let cars go by but then we push on, and on, and at the end we sweaty high five and go home to be mothers and teachers and nurses and wives and everything that we are. I am so inspired by these women (and men!) and I cannot imagine running up a g'damn hill at 5 in the morning with anyone else.
Also, let's take a moment of silence to give thanks to my coach who makes sure I have my miles, my fuel, my head in the game and takes the bulk of dance class duty and Saturday afternoon crazies so I can take a nap after 17 miles. That husband of mine is a SAINT and to think that I would drop him off for his long runs and let him know how stupid running is on my way to get a breakfast sandwich when he was training for Boston. What a jerk! (Sorry, boo, I love you so, so much and I owe you one hell of a training season when you are up this fall and you were totally right about running not being that stupid).
So, here we are. 46 days to go. $3500 dollars more to raise for an organization that changed my life and makes Boston a better place to live by filling much needed services with volunteers. That is just $80 a day to raise until Marathon Monday.
Thanks for following along, putting in miles with me, donating money, feeding me food - you all know who you are and I love you for it.
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| My Saturday social hour(s). |
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| And then we stretch. |
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| And then we party for Boston Cares! |
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