3:59:59? not so much

forcast for tomorrow? 87 degrees. 87. In Boston. In April. the BAA actually offered deferrals. Meaning if I want, I can just skip it this year and do it next year instead. Thanks but no. I didn't train for this, fly out here, etc. to turn back now. I'm disappointed, sure. But I don't need to be stupid either. I'd like to remember Boston, not die there. Yesterday, we drove part of the course, including the infamous Heartbreak Hill. My heart was beating crazy fast, and I felt a little bit like I might throw up. Next was the expo...where incidentally Dean Karnazes bumped into me. He's about 5'3" by the way. Anyway, more anxiety. After several hours volunteering though I was calm. Today was super fun! I got to visit Baypath Humane Society, the group for which I am running. I badly wanted to bring home a dog! Most of the afternoon has been spent not thinking about tomorrow. Watching hockey, drinking water, and relaxing. Thhe fun begins in about 14 hours.

20 miles

I did it. I wasn't sure after having two solid weeks of crappy runs. It was the most awesomely bizarre run I think ever in my life. I started out running 9:30 pacee...well trying to and fighting not to go too fast. I was just going to hang on to that pace for as long as i could and just see. I got to 6.5 miles still feeling great. stopped at a gas station for a pee break, munch some sportbeans, and chug some gatorade. Kept going. Got to 10 miles still feeling great. 10 is where I crapped out on my 18 mile run, but I was still on pace. I got to 12 miles and found myself grinning. I decided I would hold to 9:30 pace until I got to 15 miles and then let go. I did just that. Then miles 16 was 8:52. Oops. I got to 18 when my calves started cramping like a mofo. Then, I did it. I made it home. 20 miles. No walk breaks. That's the furthhest I've run without stopping. That's right. I totally gallowalked my 2 marathons. When I got done, I was actually laughing my ass off. That and crying like a bitch because my calves hurt so bad. So, anyway, I'm ready. I feel really good about a 4:20. And who knows? Maybe that 3:59:59 is within my reach after all.

I now know why people died from the flu

I had gone out that day for my 18 miles. I made it to 10 before I called my husband, begging to come and get me. A few hours and 102* fever later, I wanted to die. I think I even went to sleep hoping I would. I think that's what happened....our ancestors just laid down and gave up and died. But alas, I awoke again, still sick. Finally, I made it to urgent care where I was told I had a "flu like virus". Meaning? It feels like the flu, except there isn't a damn thing they can do about it.

So here I am, nearly 3 weeks later and finally starting to feel normal again. Every run has been a struggle. I did 18 a week and a half ago. It. Was. Ugly. Near 90* temps right now aren't helping matters. I had 12 scheduled last weekend, but only managed 8 before my body gave out. I felt like quitting at 5. Hell, I wanted to quit at 2. This weekend, I have 20. I may be wishing for death yet again. During my training I've said I'll never ever ever never do another marathon. But who am I kidding? ;)

I leave for Beantown 3 weeks from tomorrow. I can't believe it's nearly here! I got my race number...22966, if any of you stalkers want to track me. I'm still being told that a donation website is being set up. In the meantime, some lovely people, through my sister's efforts, have already donated. People I haven't seen or talked to in 15 years are stepping up to help. I get a little teary thinking about it.

My brother in law asked to do a story on me (he's a sports reporter dude). I feel honored, but refused. There are so many more deserving qualifiers that it just wouldn't feel right bragging about an accomplishment that isn't.

I'm an ass.

About a year and a half ago, my friend's husband was trying to qualify for Boston. Dude is seriously awesome. Like, Ironman awesome. Anyway, I ran a half the same day and watched the remainder of his race...my friends was tracking him on her phone. As we saw him come around the final stretch, we could see he was going to be close.

He missed it by 2 seconds. 2. There are sneezes that take longer than that. He was pissed. We were pissed for him.

Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago. Same friend and hubby and various other imaginary runner friends got together for dinner. Toward the end of the evening, friend's hubby and I got to chatting...about running in general, what our training has been lately, and what races we're thinking of doing this year. I blurt out, "I'm running Boston!." He excitedly asked me about qualifying. I felt like Ralphie when he blurted out fffffuuuuuuuuddddggggeeee. All I could think was "ah shit." I told him I didn't qualify. I got a charity bib. I called the next day to apologize.

Here I am training for Boston, and by no means deserve it. And there he is, who TOTALLY deserves it and isn't going. Yeah. I'm an ass. A lucky, undeserving ass. So anytime I don't feel like running, I think of Eric and how I owe it to him, and all the others who came so close. And I go run.

I'm not dead.

So, let's just say this whole moving to another state kicked my ass. I missed some workouts just from sheer exhaustion. I made 5, that's right 5 trips, between the old place and the new place in about 3 weeks. That's 4 hours each way, so yeah, some days I just didn't have it in me. However, I only missed 1, 13 mile long run and I've been otherwise right on track with those. Long runs, in the past, have been my nemesis. They still suck. But I'm doing them and feeling stronger with every one (Shut up Cohens - I know you told me so).

Let's see, Delta sucks ass. I tried to change my flight to leave from and return to Columbus instead of Louisville, but those fuckers wanted to charge me $180 to do that. Meanwhile, they've changed my flight times twice, without a single cent coming my way. Fuckers. I knew I should've booked Southwest.

My new job is teh awesome. I'm not ridiculously broke for the first time in I don't know when. I actually went shopping last weekend. Weird.

I'm now 60 days, 17 hours or something from the big day. It's flying by so fast, I can't believe it. Today, I received a link from Adam (the dude who got me into this mess) to work out my pacing so that I finish in 3:59:59. Included was the elevation information for Heartbreak Hill, which, despite the fact that it's, like, 20 miles in, does not look that bad. On paper.

So, yeah, pretty uneventful as far as the running front is concerned. I'm doing it. I'm not dead. I'm not injured. I'm still not convinced I can run sub-4, but whatevs.

Week 2 is complete....and an announcement...

Week 2 went pretty well. 25 miles for the week with a 9 mile long run. Easy peasy.

The announcement...I just accepted a new job in Columbus, Ohio. A good 4 hours from where I am now. Moving blows. Not just the physical get-our-stuff-from-here-to-there. But the getting the kids into a new school, finding new doctors/dentist/hair salon. Learning my way in a new, bigger city. Learning a new job with a new company.

This is something my husband and I have wanted for awhile now...finally the universe decided to line up and give it to us. Now, one of the cool things is that I'll be on my own, sans husband and kids for about 2 1/2 months (no, honey, I'm not saying I'm glad to be away from you). I'll be doing a huge amount of miles during this time, while not feeling guilty about taking time away from my family, because I'll be away from them anyway. By the time they move, I'll actually be on taper. And I can explore my new town on foot, which is always fun. And I have some imaginary running friends there, so I won't be doing all of my training all alone.

Right now, I'm trying to focus on the good parts, so I don't get all frustrated and riddled with anxiety. Because really, what kind of idiot makes a giant move while training for the biggest race of her life???

46 degrees and rain

Yeah, that's what was happening when I went for my run today.  I started looking at my schedule to see how I could finagle.  Then I remembered I promised a coworker I'd take her to lunch tomorrow.  Damn.  Then I looked at my "3:59:59" post it note.  Damn.  I went.  It was cold.  I ran too fast.  But it's done.  Booyah motherfuckers!