Three days and counting until I run my 4th marathon. Let me repeat that… 3 days until I run my FOURTH marathon. As I type this, the reality of that is kind of sinking in for the first time. I, the most non-athletically gifted person around, is about to run my 4th marathon!! How the hell did I get here? I still feel like my non-runner-self. The person that was lying on the couch, watching TV, eating Doritos and drinking beer (and ironically enough, I still have the body shape of that person too). Not the person getting ready to lace up her shoes for her 4th marathon.
In all honesty, I never would have imagined myself at this place. Running a marathon wasn’t even on my bucket list because it never occurred to me that it was possible. It was so out of reach, that it didn’t even make my list. Once I jumped into the deep end and committed to running my first marathon, I assumed I would be a “one-and-done” marathoner. I didn’t think I’d ever have the will power, drive and determination to train and run another. Plus, I never thought I’d con my husband into running another one either.
A few months back a few of my siblings and I were traveling together and we were scattered all over the airplane. My brother was sitting next to a person who participates in triathlons. When we all de-boarded the plane my brother introduced me to the stranger he sat next to on the plane. He introduced me as “the sister whose a runner and does marathons”. While that’s all true, it actually took me by surprise because I still don’t always associate myself with those descriptors (except for the sister part, of course). And not only do I not always associated myself with those descriptors, but I didn’t realize my family started to think of me that way.
So, here I am 3 days away from running my 4th marathon. I’m starting to get anxious and have been checking the forecast on a regular basis and have been planning out in my head what I need to pack. But for the most part, I’m not freaking out like I have in the past. Most of my co-workers don’t even realize I’m running this weekend and I’m going on with my life, like it’s no big deal. But it is a big deal and I’m thrilled I’ve gotten to a place where I no longer want to throw up over the fact that I’m running 26.2 miles on Sunday.
But that’s not to say I won’t spit up a bit in my mouth come Sunday morning. I am, who I am, and can’t completely change my spots! Besides 26.2 miles is a long freaking way and it does deserve a little bit of spittle!
Until next time ,