So it seems like eons ago (7 or 8 months), my friend Yas ran a marathon. I had been toying with the idea, and my friend Elizabeth kept telling me I should do one. After Yas ran hers, I bombarded her with a ton of questions. How hard was the training? What was her plan? How long was the plan? Patiently she answered every question. She said I should sign up for one.
Then I asked Elizabeth a ton of questions. How hard was the training? What was her plan? How long was the plan? She said I should sign up for one.
Then I asked Delane a ton of questions. How hard was the training? What was her plan? How long was the plan? She said I should sign up for one.
Then I asked Jenbeast a ton of questions. How hard was the training? What was her plan? How long was the plan? She said I should sign up for one. (Actually I didn't ask her about a plan...I asked her about cutoffs, walking, etc. and she relayed her IronMan experience to me).
D is pretty easy going. I'm pretty sure he rolled his eyes when I suggested the idea. Then said, "I will need a fuel belt." And then said there was no way he was going to run 10 miles in one day in the middle of the week. And that was about the extent I got out of him.
So I signed us up for the Rock N Roll Marathon New Orleans. For 20 weeks we were supposed to train. We picked this plan, because of mental blocks I get over certain mileages. So I wanted to be sure I did 26 miles. We did well in October. We did great in November. We did ok in December. We did lackluster in January. By February we were miserable.
However whenever I made comments or observations, people chimed in with their thoughts or support (Thank you, all!). I think it was pretty easy to see we were losing steam. First, D works every other weekend. So he missed the "short long run." Then every long run starting at 18 miles, the weather was between 25 and 32 degrees. Every frigging long run. So it was hard to prep for a 70 degree race. Still we tried. Then I got the flu. Then I got strep. Those were harder for me to mentally overcome.
Then D said he was having a back issue. This was early February. He tried a 5 mile run and got through .5 miles. He said his Achilles was in pain. He got new work shoes, but also went to see the Orthopedic Surgeon. He had a strained tendon. Trying to be supportive, I didn't bother to tell him how freaked out I was that he basically became a "game day decision." But I really was shitting a brick that now I was going to have to do this without him. And that I needed him. That knowing he is doing it helps me. I stayed quiet (as much as I could), and he took Celebrex for a few weeks. In there, we got a puppy. Then there was Valentine's Day. We went to Pet Store Beer Night for V-day. Running Bud A and her husband J were there. They asked us about the Marathon and were we going to do another. I don't think we ever spoke so fast, "NO!"
My birthday rolled around and we still didn't run. I was sick to my stomach every day from stress. I wanted to vomit all the time. I made sure that wasn't a sign for something else (no!). And finally Friday rolled around. D drove McMenamin and Scuttlebutt to their daycare. Lompoc is too little, and not fully vaccinated so she stayed with our friends. On the way home from dropping her off, we witnessed an accident. It wasn't bad at all, but my God our nerves.
We packed. Well D packed. I packed my running bag, my nutrition bag, my camera, my foam roller, and computer. Then I said I was tired, and went to bed...