For the past week, one thought keeps running through my head:
I'm really going to do this, aren't I?
Because, oh my god, Internet - my marathon is on SUNDAY.
The damn thing is so close that I can no longer refer to it as "at the end of October" or "on the 21st." It is on Sunday. Soon.
I believe I am experiencing what is known as Taper Madness. Because I no longer have 40 miles a week of running, or a pending trip to Disney World, or the need to marry two of my friends - to distract me, I am going a little nuts.
It is a huge leap of faith to think that just because I ran 20 miles a few weeks ago, I can go ahead and throw in another 6.2, and a combination of adrenaline and crowd support will make it do-able. Especially because that 20 miles was not easy. But you know what? If Hal Higdon says it'll work, then I will just have to trust him.
I am also excited. Excited to get out there and run more than the 8 miles I did on Sunday. 8 miles, which used to be the farthest I'd ever run without stopping, and now feels puny. Excited to be part of the crowd. To see what I can do. And even to hopefully meet fellow runners like The Runner Formerly Known as Non-Runner Nancy and the gang from Runner's Lounge.
No matter how things go on Sunday (and I reluctantly admit that I do believe that I will finish the race and will survive, not that I want to jinx myself), the experience of training has been awesome. I have pushed myself to do things I never did before. Sometimes it was hard (that's what she said), but it was always worth it. Also cool? If we're in the car and Jack sees a runner, he'll say, "That lady running like Mommy." That makes me proud.