As fate would have it, our vacation was smack dab in the middle of the peak mileage week of my marathon training. Yoda have mercy!
In the blazing hot Florida sun, I ran five, ten, and five mile runs. I swear, I thought I was going to melt. After the ten miler, I bought a bottle of gatorade that was pretty much the best thing I have ever tasted. It two about two seconds for me to guzzle it, like something out of a commercial.
All of this was on top of getting less sleep than usual, plus walking around the parks all day every day. And often carrying Jack around when the stroller was just not going to cut it.
We got home on a Saturday, and the very next morning, I had to wake up and do my 20 mile run. Conditions for this run were far from ideal. I wasn't rested at all from the week prior, not just because of the running, but because of the travel. And, right before the run, I had a brief scare in which I thought I wasn't going to be able to run the marathon at all. (Long story short, I'm still on track, but I didn't know that when I set off.) Both mentally and physically, I was not in the best place.
So, remember not so long ago when I completely rocked out that 18 mile run? Well this was a hell of a lot more than two miles harder. I really had to kick my ass through out the run. I actually envisioned picking myself up by the scruff of my own neck and hurling myself a few feet ahead at a time. Kind of like the fight Edward Norton has with himself in Fight Club.
It wasn't pretty, but I got through it. And now I'm tapering. It is so weird that the 8 mile run I'm doing on Sunday seems so short. And it blows my mind that my race is a week from Sunday. So soon! I will just have to trust that I trained right and that I am well and truly ready. I am looking forward to seeing what I'm made of - both actually getting my legs to go that far and making sure my head's in the right place.