20 mi.

20 miles is a long way to run. How do I know? My body is screaming it.

I was scheduled to participate in a 20-mile group run on Sunday morning. I hung out with some friends Saturday night who convinced me to stay out longer than I planned. I'm a sucker for comraderie, so I gladly stayed. Around 9pm, I decided to stop drinking. I should have kept drinking. Once I was in bed, my anxiety prevented me from falling asleep. I had to wake up at 4:30am to make it to the group run, so around 2:30am and still tossing and turning, I threw in the towel.

My regret of having skipped out itched badly enough to run the 20-miler on a Monday night, with a slight cold, and in the dark with my friend Carrie. We made it. Done. And though I am sore and sick as a dog, I feel great. Now I can sleep.

This is the journey.

Ran 7 miles home from work this evening.

As I sat in the plush office of my company's President encouraging her to donate to the American Cancer Society, I heard myself say, "I'm learning. I've never fundraised before, so I'm figuring out how to do it." The words flew out of my mouth, and I realized something in the midst of my nervousness....

There's so much pressure to be instantly confident, to spontaneously master a skill. I've certainly pressured myself to be intellectually dexterous, be the best communicator, be athletically more inclined, etc. and still make it seem like it's all a breeze for me. People do it all the time. Sometimes it's nice to acknowledge that things take work. Most of my skills are not instincts. Some are. The rest are learned. And as I'm learning, I don't want to focus so steadfastly on the end goal that I gloss over the struggle and the insecurity preceding it. That's been a great part.

Brown Shoes

5 quickie miles up Sheridan tonight. 20-miler this Sunday in the A.M.

I'm ready to go. I want to run this. My shoes are worn.

At the beginning of some of my runs, I have a burst of uncontrollable excitement. I run really really quickly for a first mile. I'm so happy to have made myself get out there and do it. The wind and the rhythm feels new every time. I love that first burst, but I know how to pace out shortly thereafter. This initial effort is not conducive to good overall pacing except that I've accepted it as part of me and so have incorporated it into my running strategy. I used to get mad at myself for my early, overwhelming enthusiasm, but I've decided to forgive myself and get over it.

If you want to track me during the marathon, go to http://www.doitsports.com/results/MSG-signup.tcl?sub_event_id=2161 and sign up. It'll let you know when I cross 10 different thresholds spaced out along the course.

Big gulps, huh?

I made it through yesterday. 18 miles ...in one big gulp.

I had plans with a friend to play tennis today, and I was signed up for a 5k this morning...but neither one has happened. My knees and joints are so sore I can hardly walk. Last night, I went to the bar to watch Mizzou whoop up on SEMO only to leave early because of my throbbing legs. Ouch.

As my training inches closer to culmination and with my body acting as a constant reminder, I'm starting to notice its cumulative effects on my mind. In life, I tend to do things quickly. While deftness at high speeds allows me to master some things, it impairs my ability to be successful at others. This marathon training makes patience a goal in itself. Instead of using patience as a tactic to achieve some other objective... lucid patience becomes the goal. Ironically, I am more peacefully confident and relaxed than I can remember being at any other time. Because I am forced to accept my physical self as is, I am more open to accept my metaphysical self. I am more open to accepting the limits and the realities of others as well. I am satisfyingly helpless.

Maybe I make too much of a few months of marathon training. But this is what I do. I make big deals out of daily things. I put a lot of weight on everything I see, do, hear, etc. This is how I keep learning and growing, and it's how I prefer life to be.