If Pheidippides was alive today, he wouldn't have this problem.
Shoot, he didn't have this problem even when he was alive, because running from Marathon killed him. He didn't need to tell people about it afterwards. I suppose I don't really need to either but it would sure be fun, wouldn't it?
The last post I wrote was me whining in November. One month and ten days before M-Day. What happened after November 2, 2010? Welp, I quit whining and kept running. Billy came home, MuM and DadE came out to support me in my endeavors...and I finished the 2010 Honolulu Marathon in 3:54:56.* And then I got a tattoo to commemorate my tremendous feat.
And I swore, swore that I would never EVER do that to my body again. I can't remember pain worse than those last 6 miles. It jacked me up - mentally and physically. I took one whole month from running - and then another. I tried to run, and it still hurt. Friends of mine that had also run the marathon were back on their feet and happy as clams, and I couldn't run a 1/2 mile. So...I started going to physical therapy. After 2 different therapists and 4 months of being lazy and gaining weight (remember this? Today, I am right where I was. It must be my happy place), it was determined that my right hip was tilted incorrectly - a common ailment among female runners. It sucks, though. It took me 6 full months to recover from the marathon. Why on earth would I do that again?
Peer Pressure!
Or rather, coercing, conjoling, and persuading by my husband. He wants to run the marathon in December, and I guess misery loves company. Mostly, I think he just got me drunk and convinced me that running 26 miles again would be fun. Silly man. What are we thinking? We started last Thursday. We did a long run (which is 7.8 miles now) on Monday and were on the track - THE TRACK!!!! - yesterday.
As much as I'd like to deny it, it's happening again. And this nutter can't help but thinking in blog posts along the miles. Thoughts would show up like:
"Self! You could write about why you quit writing because it was just too much extra stuff to do and then you felt guilty about not doing it in so long and then the marathon was over and, and, and, you need to offer the people an explaination!"
"Self! You could write about how much better track work outs are with a buddy"
"Self! It would be so FUN!"
Tonight Billy is working, so I ran 30 minutes by myself. And at the very end of my run, the most amazing running song of all time came on my iPod shuffle. I started thinking about it. And how I could put a link to the song on the blog! And how awesome it would be! But then...I came home. I started thinking about how much extra work it would be to start again. So I said, "SELF!!! If you can fold all this laundry and still feel like you need to write, then you need to go write." Here I am.
Here's the song:
That's some motivational shit right there.
It might rip the bones from my back, be a death trap, a suicide rap...but baby, I was born to run.
*officially, my time was 4:00:08. Don't get me started. I stopped my watch for puking and nature stops so MY time wins. I usually don't tell people about being 8 seconds over 4 hours when they ask. But as always and ever, I'm all about full disclosure here
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