Sunday is the big day. I'd say I've "officially" been training toward this next marathon for over 9 months. Very few weekends have seen less than 16 miles in the past long while. I've over-trained, which is not ideal, but I'm in this more for the training than for the end race, I've realized. I crave 20 mile runs on my weekends. I'm going to miss them. Just me, my headphones, and the trail.
I have a hard time getting out of bed on those mornings, but as soon as I'm about 3-4 miles in I remember why I do it. When I'm approaching mile 20 and I realize that I'm not mentally ready to stop, I remember why I do it. That Runner's High is like nothing else; I'm addicted.
I'm excited for Sunday's race. I'm ready -- physically and mentally. I've practiced mental strategies during my weekend runs to hopefully prevent what happened last time from creeping up on me again. I KNOW I can do this. I can run 22 miles and want to keep going...I can do this. I ran (jogged) while 8.5 months pregnant...I can do this. I've made it through unmedicated birth by choice...I can do this! (My mom was reminding me this morning how versatile natural labor strategies are, and that they'll be useful for marathon running. I think she's on to something.)
The girls and I are heading over tomorrow with my parents, and Jeff is traveling for work. He's been so incredibly supportive.
No matter how it all goes down on Sunday, I'll be happy for the experience.
Here we go!