Yesterday I ran ten miles.
Wait, let me rephrase that.
Yesterday I “ran” ten miles.
I say “ran” because in all actuality, I RAN seven miles, I jogged mile 8, and I SUFFERED through miles 9 and 10.
Hey, hip flexor, how YOU doin’?
You want to know how much this freaks me out? A lot this freaks me out. Why? Because right now I am physically prepared to run a half marathon in five weeks.
I have two half marathons in the next four.
Well, fuck. That math just doesn’t add up.
Part of the freak out comes from the fact that in my first half marathon, miles 8 and 9 were where I hit my block, where my mind and body started rebelling. And that was after ACTUALLY training!
So, yeah, not feeling so confident about this whole RACE thing. I mean, I’m going to fucking do it. Of course I’m going to fucking do it. I’m just kind of worried about how my brain will process the whole thing.
Yesterday I also printed off my waiver form for the Rock N Roll half, which showed me having registered with an expected completion time of 1:50:00. Aaaaaaahahahahahaha.
At this point, honestly, I’ll be happy to finish sub-2:10. Granted, this time I’ll have a support system at more places than miles 2 and 13 (hi mama, I love that you and baby sister were there!), being that hopefully GCB will be feeding me beer at mile 9. And really, I ran a 5k (yes, I know a half marathon is like 4-something 5ks) the other day and felt…well, perfect after actually.
Granted, today my hip flexor is still angry, I’m still limping, and now I have a week and a half to talk myself into going balls-to-the-wall for 13.1 miles.
Psh, no big deal, right?