Thanksgiving morning I ran in my first official "Turkey Trot" it was 10 miles of hills, gasping for air, and calf cramping. My goal time was 1 hour and 30 minutes, I finished in 1:35:22. Not bad, 5 minutes off of my goal time but I have another month before my next race (chocolate race 15k) and I am hoping to shave some time off of my mile time before then. I am 8 weeks out from the Disney half marathon and my goal is to run it in 2 hours or less. That means I need to average a 9 minute mile for 13.1 miles, right now I am averaging 9.5 minutes. As I start to complete more of my races I start to freak out a little more and more about the Marathon. 26.2 miles ..... WHAT THE F*&$# was I thinking?!?!
I know I have the mental strength to do it. I was an athlete at one time and not matter how old I get or how out of shape I might be I still have that little voice in my head that pushes me to be the absolute best I can be. Yes it sometimes comes out at awkward moments and family game night can be a little tense when that competitive streak comes out but hey, its what pushes me to make myself better. That voice is what makes me keep running when my knee is telling me to slow down and grab a cane, that voice is what puts a little extra drive in my pace as I start to pass people in the final mile, and its what continues to push me out of a squishy, round body and into a runners body.
I have had this body for 25 years going on 26 and at this point I know pretty much everything about it. I know that I look better in jeans and a T-shirt than a fancy gown. I know that I have more chins that I did in high school (but less than I did 3 months ago). I know that I am changing and evolving into what I want to be. I am very aware that if need to walk/run/jump or make any sudden movements then I should be wearing body armor because I tend to fall down more than the average person. Dairy products are my kryptonite. I have a weakness for anything coated in cholesterol and triglycerides. I also know that I look more like a competitive eater than someone who runs on average 15-20 miles a week and spends a minimum of 1 hour a day , 6 days a week at the gym.
So I will continue to run and to push myself into the uncomfortable world of shin splints and ice bags (Good thing I married a physical therapist/ATC) and I will dream of doughnuts and frappachinos as I go. Maybe one day my worlds will meet in a doughy (the food not my body), svelte (my body not the doughnuts), mixture of awesomeness.
