Training for a marathon is harder than I thought it would be. Getting a wild hare and going out in the woods to run 26.5 miles after only running 12 is one thing. Kind of like having your first child. You have NO idea what you are doing and view it very romantically. The second time around, you know just what you are getting yourself into. I remember finding out I was pregnant the second time and thinking “Holy Crap” I am not sure I can do this again.

Lately, I have been having the same “HOLY CRAP” kind of doubt about this marathon thing. These long runs are HARD!!! I am exhausted!! I actually fell asleep at the playground yesterday. On the sidewalk, face down. I am not kidding. Thank God Richard was there to make sure no one stole a kid or something. I knew I had to run 12 miles this morning. Get this: 12 miles as a RECOVERY run! I just didn’t think I would be able to recover enough to do the “recovery” run.

My knee has been killing me. I have been having visions of knee replacement surgery. Myself as a bent over little old lady with a walker,..or the worst: having to amputate the damn thing. I was starting to think this whole thing was a bad idea. At the very least, I was justifying why I needed to skip my long run this week. I mean it was a recovery week. Didn’t that mean total rest was an option??

My alarm went off at 5, and I hit the snooze. My alarm went off at 6, and I hit the snooze again. I think the last time I felt this tired was when I was pregnant with Zeke and still nursing Hannah. Richard said, “Don’t worry, you need the sleep”.

I finally dragged myself out of bed at 8 and figured I would hate myself if I didn’t at least make an attempt to do my run. Someone once told me that the only run I will regret is the one I didn’t do.

So I did.

I put on a new pair of running shoes. (Who doesn’t love a new pair of shoes) I got focused. And I ran.

Then I turned a corner. Somewhere along the way it turned into one of my best runs. 12 miles in 2 hrs flat. One of my best times. My knee actually got better as I ran! I finished feeling a million times better than before I started.

I went home feeling elated. I also felt hopeful. Hopeful that maybe I can face down this 26 miles after all. Maybe I can do this thing!

And I am not even feeling that toenail that I lost along the way. Ok that is a lie. It is throbbing like hell as I am writing this. The more honest answer is, losing a toenail was well worth the knowledge that even when I don’t think I have anything left, I can get out there and kick ass.