It was a 31-mile week. That's right. In seven days, I cranked out 31 miles. I've been studying my training schedule, but not once did I add up weekly mileage. When I passed the 25-mile mark last night I was already surprised, but this morning's trail run put the icing on the 30+ mile cake. Sorry for that metaphor. I really want cake.
That brings me to an already noticeable difference in my body. This heavy week of mileage has already messed with my metabolism. I swear I have done nothing but eat this week. I am constantly hungry!
Mostly this week was just hard because I was mentally and physically exhausted. Actually, exhausted feels like an understatement. In my new training plan, I run for four days straight, Wednesday through Saturday, with no rest. The stretch of days starts with a speed workout on Wednesday (always the toughest) with an active recovery day, a "light day," then ends with a distance day on the trail. The Wednesday workout went so well. I ran my fastest mile since I don't know when- 7:19! Sorry, I have bragging rights! But Thursday I received some unfortunate news about the health of a loved one. Honestly, that's what made the week so hard. After hearing the news on Thursday, I pushed through my run and came home and eventually went to bed with a splitting headache that I still had when I woke up four hours later.
Both Thursday and Friday I started having my doubts. Why am I even doing this? Then two very subtle events happened that changed my attitude. First, Friday morning I went to get my allergy shot. When I was in the clinic, I stopped by the hospital café to grab some breakfast. I was grouchy because I was hungry and my legs hurt so, so bad. In fact, I was feeling discouraged because my legs were so beaten up this week. Every morning I was so sore when trying to roll out of bed. But then at the café, I ran into a young man in a wheelchair. Even though I beat him to the counter I felt like I had gotten in his way. He let me go ahead, smiling at me sweetly. Then I felt like such a jerk for being whiney about my own healthy, perfectly-working legs. That night at the Actors' Theatre performance, I encountered one of our house managers who is also in a wheelchair. She does her job just as well as anyone without a wheelchair! She was wheeling around, taking up donations and giving out fliers. Yet again, I felt like a huge baby for being so hard on myself. Those people have a "disability" (FYI, I could write a novel on how I hate to use that word) but they had the greatest attitudes. Meanwhile, I'm training for a huge, exhilarating moment in my life and all I can focus on is pain. That whipped me into shape in no time. I sucked it up and rose at 6am this morning to hit the trails with my running family by 7:00am.
The second event happened this morning, post-run, at Ethan's tee ball game. This has been the first game of his I have been able to attend, and he was super thrilled to see me there. My favorite parts of the game were when he took the plate to bat and when he ran home from third, which he got to do several times. Each time he ran home, he turned to look at our family in the stands, grinning from ear to ear. I realize this is exactly how I look when I get to see my family at a race. I smile so hard because I am overjoyed with happiness at their support of me. After the game Ethan came out of the dugout, and I congratulated him on his great game. He was so pleased with himself. He jumped up in one very excited leap and exclaimed, "I did it. I did it!" He will never know just how inspiring that was to me. His happiness is my happiness. His accomplishment and pride brought me an ecstatic happiness that I could not receive from anyone else. This is what I want to do with my marathon. It is ultimately a journey that I want to share with my family. I also want them to feel proud and accomplished when I cross the finish line. It may be my journey, but I could not have started if it weren't for my family.
Week 1 of training has been strenuous already, and I know I have a long, hard road ahead. But thanks to some strangers and a three year old, I feel freshly motivated and ready to take week two. That's my plan. To take it one week at a time, but always keep the finish line in the back of my mind.
