Today is a monumental day, friends.
The decision is final, I will run a mm… m… marathon. I’ve run a handful of half-marathons, and this decision does not come without a whole heap of reservations based on those experiences. Vividly recalling the sensation at the finish lines, I can hardly imagine what would happen to me were I to keep running, it seems painful. Intense, inescapably, crazy painful. The fact remains however, that it’s a question I am compelled to answer. Can I run 26.2 miles (in what I’m hoping will be less than 6-ish hours)? Over the next 14 or so weeks of training I’m hoping to make sure the answer is yes, and get out of my head about it a little bit more. It’s no big deal. Right?
The M Word
I’m fighting the urge to get very nervous and back out. Just take the farthest distance I’ve yet managed to scramble over this earth, and double it. No big deal. The only reason I presume to have any business attempting this is my amazing sisters. I owe whatever moxie it takes to start this process to them. I want to thank them, my best running companions and biggest supporters. With them I ran my first half-marathon, something I thought could very likely be impossible. It wasn’t. Not only was it possible, it was damn fun. Together the Sweigert sisters went out and conquered the trails and the sense of accomplishment and delight was incredible when we staggered across the finish line.
The current strategy is to follow a Hal Higdon-ish training plan and on day two so far, I’m feeling pretty optimistic. Check back in a few weeks and we’ll see…
“The equipment and desire come factory installed; all you have to do is let ‘er rip and hang on for the ride.” – Born to Run