Marathon Training Weeks Eight Through Twelve / Back in the Saddle

Running Recap:
Week Eight

• Monday / 4 Miles / Intervals
• Tuesday / 7 Miles / Pace 
• Wednesday / 4 Miles / Easy  

Week Nine 

• Nothing

Week Ten 

• Tuesday / 4 Miles / Trails 
• Wednesday / 7 Miles / Pace
• Saturday / 18 Miles / Easy 

Week Eleven 

• Tuesday / 5 Miles / Trails
• Wednesday / 8 Miles / Pace
• Thursday / 5 Miles / Easy 
• Saturday / 13 Miles / Easy 

Week Twelve 

• Tuesday / 5 Miles / Easy 
• Thursday / 8 Miles / Pace 
• Saturday / 20 Miles / Easy 

It's been some time since I've written, a friend reminded me last night.  I told her I couldn't, writing is still too close.  Four weeks ago I got a call in the middle of the night from my mom.  Midnight, on the dot.  I was in a sleeping pill induced haze, as my alarm was set for the Old Farts Trail Race the next morning, and answered "Hey Momma!  How are you?"  It wasn't until she told me an unreal story about my Dad that I still can't quite comprehend, that I learned he had been killed in a tragic accident. 

Fast forward through everything that has followed between then and now.  I have learned the power of putting one foot in front of the other, both in life and in my running.  My grief has manifested as a rock in my stomach, residing right below my rib cage.  It's about the size of an ostrich egg.  I can't wait for it to go away, but I know I will feel an emptiness when it's gone.  For now, the grief rock makes food unappetizing, makes it hard to breathe, and is a constant reminder that all isn't well in my life.  I had to make an alliance with the rock in order to even be able to get back out on the road.  The first day I tried to run after my father's death I was terrified.  Showering was, and still is, exhausting, so how was I going to be able to rally the moxie to actually run again?  

Funny thing is, it didn't take long to learn that running is about the only easy thing in my life.  I won't lie, it hurts, I doubt myself, and I fight with the inner quitter in me every time I head out to run.  

I found running a year and a half ago, when I went through a major life change.  I wanted to redefine myself. There was an unexpected side effect: while out on runs, my mind completely cleared.  It was the only time I found peace from my thoughts.  I could just be.  It was spiritual, and meditative, and exactly what I needed. Fortunately, it's working precisely the same way now.

So while I'm not exactly on track with my marathon training, I'm exactly where I should be.  Over these past weeks, I've crossed some milestones that are worthy of celebration:

• My first 18 miler!
• My first 20 miler!
• 500 miles for the year!     

And the rock was there in my stomach for all of them.  Step by step, the rock and I are just putting one of my feet in front of the other.  It would be easy to quit now, I have a good excuse, after all.  But I'm not looking for an excuse to quit.  Full disclosure though, I am in a daily search for reasons NOT to quit.    

YOLO

I have news for you.  YOLO is a farce.  You only die once.  You live every glorious day.  So go out & do it.

Week Thirteen's Intention: Conquering Fools