So, here's the deal. Where I live it's hot. Not like normal human being hot but surface-of-the-sun hot. Like cook an egg on concrete hot. As in there's no reason to check your mailbox until after dark hot. Did I mention it's hot? What better time to train for a marathon, right? Did I mention I have never ran a marathon? Or that it's hot?
The journey to the marathon began like this: the eight year old version of me saw the Boston marathon on TV. My mom (who was younger than I am now) said she would like to run a marathon. My eight year old self apparently agreed that this was a good idea. Chalk it up to lack of life experience or the inability to gauge exactly how far 26.2 miles is as to why eight year old me would agree that a marathon was a good idea but I digress. So the eight year old me decided: MARATHON IT IS! With that goal securely tucked away in the recesses of my mind life continued.
Flash forward thirty years and introduce one very enthusiastic running coach who just happens to have her kiddo enrolled in the same dance class as mine. In comes the topic of the marathon again. Immediately eight year old me says "Hey, I want to run a marathon!" I could have choked that kid.
Instead, I decided that training for a marathon would be just what I needed to make eight year old me shut up. So, I went to an information meeting, signed up to train, and paid my money. Now you need to know that in order to properly train for a marathon you need a great nutrition plan, lots of rest, and you need to run A LOT. What I had was a diet endorsed by Hersheys and the sleep habits of a certifiable insomniac. (I think it is from all the years of getting up and down to feed and change babies, but who knows). The good news is eight year old me doesn't realize how to train properly for a marathon and so she's very enthusiastic! So, the training begins.
I begin my training by watching inspirational videos of people running. You know, Eye of the Tiger type stuff. I see scores of videos on youtube of people running to upbeat motivational type music, etc. Now that I am sufficiently motivated by a straight hour of watching inspirational running videos I decide to "trot out" my first mile. Let me just say that I don't care how many inspirational videos you have watched if you haven't "trotted out" a mile in the past ten to fifteen years it might not go as well as you thought or at least that's how it happened for me.
About thirty yards into my Mile of Glory I thought I would die. Literally. In fact, I might have for a minute. I'm almost positive I flatlined. Had the ice cream man (or any stranger with candy) approached at that point I would have gotten a ride home. I gave serious consideration to jogging the remainder of the mile with my thumb affixed in hitchhiker position just in case a benevolent, trustworthy soul came along to take pity on me. Ultimately, I decided that holding my arm out like that would take away vital energy my legs needed to propel me forward. Besides, eight year old me was still determined we could do this.
So off I went to finish my Mile of Shame previously known as the Mile of Glory. I finished it and lived to tell about it with only 25.2 more to go. :)