I’m in! Today marathon registration opened at 10:00 am. By 10:30 I was registered with confirmation email and everything. It’s not until October but it feels very real now. This is going to happen. I’m going to run 26.2 miles. And I’m looking forward to it!
A few years ago my sister trained for and ran a marathon. I remember at the time thinking that training for and running a marathon just seemed like the scariest, most awful form of self torture I’d ever heard of. Who runs hours and hours a week for months to train and get prepare for a 3+ hour (if you’re fast) race? It’s not a run for survival. Nobody forces someone to run a marathon. So who does that?
Back when my sister was training if you asked me to jog for even 5 minutes I would have laughed in your face. Now a 5 minute jog is my warm up. Now I crave hitting the pavement. Now I am an athlete (granted, still a slow athlete) but I am going to run this marathon in October. What changed? All it takes is that spark. I’m inspired by my sister (yes you, Pan!), I’m in inspired by my BRF (you know who you are!), I’m inspired by my badass canyon-running idol (you know who you are too!).
So rewind to 10:20 am today. Entering in all this great information, credit card in my teeth, typing away: name, age, address, phone, shirt size, emergency contact,
Pace & finish time… blank stare, blinking cursor. Not only do I need to commit to running a marathon today. I have to commit to actually finishing it. Stuff just got real. I thought. I thought and thought and thought. I honestly thought the page might time out. Then I typed 11 minute miles with a projected finish time of 4 hours 45 minutes. I know that they won’t come out and drag me off the course if I don’t meet my time but somehow this felt like a pledge. A pledge to get it done in less than 5 hours. A pledge to give it my all. This is my first (and maybe only) marathon and I’m going into it with a goal to finish. Finishing in 4 hours 45 minutes is my target. 4 hours 30 minutes is my stretch goal. Right now 11 minute miles are my easy I-could-run-forever pace. I think it’s doable. I hope it’s doable. However, a wise woman once told me “hope is not a plan” (you know who you are too). So the plan is this: Show up and run. Show up and run my heart out.