I'm ready to go...but I'm not leaving on a jet plane.
Trea and I are hitting the road for Memphis. It's marathon weekend! Tomorrow, I will run my first (possibly my last) 26.2 and I am 100% terrified. The marathon is nothing to sneeze at. It's far. It's hard. If it were easy, more people would do it.
I told Bella how far a marathon is. This is her "Say what?" face.
Looking back on my training, I think I'm as prepared as I can be. No, I didn't follow my plan. Cross training intentions died somewhere in the first few weeks, and speed work followed not long after. I wasn't in good enough shape to get through all the workouts without causing problems with other parts of my life and my health. So I've done what I can do. Will that be enough tomorrow? We'll see.
As for goals, my first goal is to finish. As long as I finish, I'll be fine. My even-better-than-finishing goal would be to come in at 5:10 or under. There's a 5:10 pace team I'm thinking of joining, and while it would be awesome to finish faster than that, I know deep down that that's the group for me.
My over-the-moon goal would be to finish in under 5 hours. But let's get real here. When I check my half marathon time and 10 miler times on a race calculator, the result always projects that I'll finish around 5:12 or so. That's my ability level. And if crossing the line in 10 or 15 minutes more means that I don't collapse at mile 22, then who cares? I ran 20 miles in about 3:55, so I just don't think I have excellent chances of finishing in less than 5:00. But that's ok! Because I'll still get a medal! And I will still be a marathoner!
I will know I've done my best. That's all I can do.