Trust

I learned a valuable lesson today: all my miles count. 

I keep looking back at the time I injured myself and seeing it as ground zero. Seeing my recovery time as a set back. As meaning that I'm starting from scratch.

But it's not and I'm not. I've put in 9 months of road time and my legs remember that. My heart and my lungs remember that.

Despite all my positive self talk, I was still really anxious this morning as I set off to accomplish 10 miles. My body was fine, though. I took it slow and I felt strong. 

I think my body needed me to know that it's put in a lot of work this year and a couple of set backs don't negate all that hard work. 

So today I learned that I need to trust in the process. Trust that I have worked hard and put in the miles. Trust that I can do this.

Friday. The new Monday.

Friday training days are proving to be a challenge. Between my husband leaving for work at 6 and my working part time, I've had to carefully plan which days I can train on.

Right now it's set as Tuesday, Friday, and Sunday. Three days a week because I'm trying to avoid injury. On Tuesdays and Fridays I get up at 4:45 am so I can be out the door by 5. I work on Wednesday and Thursday and aim to leave the house by 7:45. I'm not usually home until 7 pm and very much ready for bed by 9!

My kids have never been good sleepers. A is a bit better than L, but she's teething lately and currently seems to have a cold (complete with fever and vomiting).

As you can imagine, by the time Friday morning comes around, running in the dark, freezing cold of 5am is the last thing I want to do.

I didn't make it out the door this morning, but running two days a week is not going to get me to that finish line in very good shape.

So right now, while I rock my sick baby while she fitfully sleeps, I'm telling myself to suck it up and go tonight. I'm not training for a marathon because it's easy.  And this is just part of the journey.

London Marathon, Baby!

Wow. I just re-read my last post. If that is not a clear indication of why I need to run, I don't know what is.

I'm happy to say that I am in a much better place right now. I started to run again over Christmas after about 5 weeks off. I've tried to take the road back to running slowly, but it is hard. Right now I'm only running 3 days a week because I know that I need to take it easy.

With stress at work and my mental health needing a real boost, it is hard to reign myself in. I see other people running and I yearn to be out there. But I must take it slow.

So how to take it slow...

Yes, the title of my post is the London Marathon. And, yes, I got a spot. But that is not taking it slow, you say. No. It's not.

It was a really difficult decision when I got the call. I cried. I worried. I talked and talked to my husband about it.  I didn't make the cut back in October, but I put myself on the waiting list because I wanted it so badly. I put it out of my head and kept Richmond Park in the forefront of my mind.

But I got the call. I got the chance. And how can you turn down London?

I'm telling myself that this is for John. 13 April is 5 days after his anniversary date. John lived in London. And it is for Mind. Yes, running a marathon is for myself. It is a goal I have had for a while now, but if it were purely for myself, I would take the longer time to train. I would choose Richmond.

So I'm telling myself that my only goal is to finish. That it's okay to walk (eek - walk?!).

I'm absolutely terrified that I have to run 10 miles this weekend. The last time I ran 10 miles I injured myself. But if I'm going to run 26.2, I have to get past 10 first. So let's take it one step (mile) at a time.