There’s been a lot of talk – virtual and IRL (in real life) – about if I’ll be running another marathon anytime soon.
Mom (who, like all runner mothers are, is worried about double knee replacements at age 27) says I should bow out on a high note, having run LA pain-free like I wanted.
She has a point. After three marathons I’ve proven I can conquer the 26.2 distance (healthy or not). I’ve stated my case and can claim my title as an
BAMF Endurance Athlete.
BUUUUUT… How can you look past the trends here?
The continuous PRs?
The gradual shift from “agonizing pain all race long“ (Cleveland) to “the only pain is this damn rain in my eyeballs” (LA)?
The OH-SO-CLOSE proximity to a sub-4???
Yeah, I’m not done yet.
Thanks to some (heavy) internet peer pressure, the offering of our guest room to an out-of-towner that’s running (SweatOnceaDay), and all the love-born reviews, I went ahead and registered for this last night :
Just in case you’re checking your at-a-glance calendar (which you’ve obvs noted all of my important life events on) and scratching your head, here’s how the next 5 months are going to shake out :
May 14 : L & Mini Twin arrive for two weeks of West Coast debauchery
May 20-23 : Vegas Bachelorette (and the requisite week of recovery)
May 30 : Laguna Half – aka hell on hills
June 5 : Fontana Half – aka if-I-don’t-PR-I’m-quitting-running
June 25 : Half in Ohio – aka Happy Week-Before-Your-Wedding present, dingbat
July 3 : I agree to legally give B all my heart, half my posessions, and forfeit the right to be called “miss”
Aug 16-23 : Honeymoon in Costa Rica – try not to be eaten by monkeys or fall in an active volcano
Immediately upon arrival in CA : Commence Long Beach “Training” (term is used loosely around here)
I’m hoping to maintain (close to) half-mar shape before we leave for Costa Rica, and will have 6.5 weeks to get ready for Long Beach after we get back. I’m feeling good about this, especially after my 5 Weeks to Marathon success at LA. I’ve found true love in my shortened training plans after being abused by those mean 16-weekers, and will continue loving them until somebody gives me a reason not to.
(Physiologists, Runner’s World, and moms discluded.)