I probably should have written this immediately after my run on Saturday, but it’s too late for that.
Saturday was my first 18 miler. I ended up cutting it mile short. I had volunteered to drive my parents to the airport so I was already working on a timetable, and I overslept so I got out the door about a half an hour later than intended. The run itself didn’t get off to a great start. Aside from oversleeping, I managed to shut my car door on my practically brand new headphones smashing on of the earbuds. Thankfully it still worked because 18 miles alone, without music when I was already stiff and cranky about oversleeping was not high on my list of things to do.
Despite the rough start, I had a really solid run, and I finished really strong. There was no doubt in my mind about my ability to finish that last mile if I’d had the time. I was feeling a little sluggish around mile 12 and 13 but at mile 14 I got a burst of energy that I finished with. My last couple miles were really quick (relatively speaking)
I spent a lot of time thinking and reflecting during the run. (Let’s be honest, even at a 12 minute mile pace, 17 miles gives you A LOT of time to think.) I started my run with the plan of running my usual 9.4 mile loop twice.
As I started out, I was thinking about training for my first half marathon, and how my longest run prior to that race was 6 miles. The first time I ran double-digit mileage was during that race, and I finished. I thought about the first time I ran the entire 9.4 mile loop and the fact that I was about to run it twice…in a row. I thought a lot about how far I’ve come and how strong I’ve gotten along the way.
The other day I mentioned that I still don’t think I’ve fully accepted the fact that I’m running a full marathon in what is now 40 days. As I was running on Saturday I was thinking about this too. I know it’s coming. I’m training for it. But honestly, I’m not excited about the marathon. I’m not nervous or scared either though. Honestly, the best way to describe my feelings toward the impending marathon is confident. I’m not overly confident to the point of bravado; after all, pride cometh before the fall. I know it will be hard and exhausting. I’m sure there will be moments somewhere between mile 16 and mile 26 that I want to quit. I know those feelings of excitement and nervousness will come. However, I’m confident I will finish. I’m confident in my training. I’ve worked hard, and I will keep working hard for the next 40 days.