Over the last few months, I've a series of conversations about training for a full marathon. They went a little like this.
Kim's Friend/Family Member/Blogger Buddy: So, when do you think you'll start training for that first marathon?
Kim: Marathon? F*ck that. I haven't been able to run pain-free since 2009, I'm not going to abuse my body like that. Not happening. End 'o story.
Fast forward to April, my Run Less Run Faster book is looking increasingly tattered, and my browser history looks a little like this:
|Which of these things is not like the other?|
So, Good Will Hunting fantasies aside, my mind has been increasingly preoccupied with finding... drumroll please... a marathon plan.
And not just finding one. Carefully researching, creating, editing and re-editing, switching my calendar around long runs... basically, planning to run a marathon.
What's my problem? I wanted to wait to run a marathon until after I'm definitely done having kids, until I'm a few years post-injury, and until life slows down a bit. But now, I feel like my mind is all systems go for training, and nothing has changed with my uterus, my femur, or my schedule.
In four weeks, I'm running the Wisconsin Half Marathon in Kenosha, WI. If this goes well (a decent time, and feeling strong and happy, and not wishing for death the whole time like at my last half), then I start training for the Fox Cities Marathon in September. As in the full marathon. Yikes.