3.2 to Go

In my quest to complete the Big Sur Marathon in April, today I completed my last long run before the Marathon - 23 miles. I'm not going to lie - it's the hardest thing physically that I've ever done.

I was putting it off all morning, and wouldn't you know when I finally stepped out to begin my run - it started pouring rain. It poured the entire time. I was completely soaked during most of the 4-ish hours of running. But for some reason I don't mind running in the rain; it makes me feel a little more 'hard core', more of a dedicated runner. I only passed by a handful of runners throughout this 23 mile jaunt, and each time there was a nod between us, as if to acknowledge we were part of an elite club - those who are insane enough to run in the pouring rain.

In the running world it is common knowledge that at some point during a long distance run most people will hit a 'wall'. This is when your body and your mind start to reject the hell you're putting it through...'abort, abort, abort, you're insane, abort', your mind screams with each step. You have to play mind tricks with yourself to keep going the distance.

Most people hit this wall during the latter part of their run. Me? I hit my wall the entire first 2 miles of any run I do. The first mile or 2 is torture. It takes me forever to get into a rhythm, and the entire time my mind is continuing to spew out a flood of negativity. "Why on earth are you putting yourself through this? You see, you're tired after the first mile, how do you expect to go 22 more? Just turn around, go back home and stuff your face with chocolate easter eggs and Peeps", etc. etc.

I guess in a way it's nice that I hit my wall early, that way I can get all the negative thoughts out of my head once and for all, and then move on and focus on my goal. Once I get past that first mile or 2, I find my cadence. I usually hit my 2nd wall at around mile 17 or 18. This wall is usually a small one to bust through, I just keep the focus and get back into my groove.

Let me tell you though, the last 4 miles of my run today were so.freaking.hard. They really were. I was never so happy to see my house in my life, to be DONE. So now I sit here with aches in every single leg muscle of my body, wondering when I will be able to walk normally again, and why on earth anyone would put themselves through this kind of torture. And why on earth did I choose one of the hilliest marathons ever to run my first one? I am so nervous about finishing this thing! But barring any sudden injuries, I *know* I can do this...when I know I can do 23 miles, what's another 3.2. Crazy to think that less than a year ago even 3.2 miles seemed out of my reach.

But in 3 short weeks, I will be running my first (and perhaps last) marathon. Let me tell you, for a girl whose M.O. is to start something by jumping in at full speed and rarely see it through to completion, this is going to be such a sweet victory. I don't care if I'm the last person across that finish line, I just want to finish.