Mortification of the Flesh
I am planning on running another marathon. Planning–that sounds vague. I have signed up to run a second marathon. Signed up–that sounds as if I could still opt out.
I am running the Dallas White Rock Marathon on December 5, 2010. There, that’s better.
Training for a marathon is a huge slog. I am only running three days a week (speedwork on Mondays, tempo runs on Wednesdays, long runs on Saturdays) but it still represents a major time commitment, and one that I don’t always feel up to. The results of training are undeniable, though. Whereas I used to classify six miles as a “long run,” nowadays anything under ten miles feels like a wee stroll down the garden path. I save the term “long run,” as well as the attendant feelings of dread for things like my planned 18-miler this weekend. It is going to take me over three hours to run those miles. And then my brain, as well as my legs, will be mush for the rest of the weekend.
Also, my feet are not pretty. I don’t think anyone’s feet really are (except for my girls’ feet. Their feet are adorable) but after that much pounding, my feet look pretty much as you would expect. Abraded, blistered, dry in some spots, gooey in others. It’s not a pretty sight, so I’m thankful that we’re finally out of sandal season and firmly in closed-toe shoe territory.
I like to think that I am not training for a marathon in order to punish my body. I like to think that my body and I are in this together, as we approach 40 years of teamwork on this earth. I like to think that I can still be surprised by what my body is capable of. My 14-year-old self would never have believed this was possible. Heck, my 20-year-old self would have laughed and laughed and laughed.
So, wish me luck as December approaches. I might have a third marathon in me after this one, but no time soon. Now I am trying to balance out the running with yoga practice. I think this is where my post-marathon energy is going to go. Time to challenge the body (and the mind) in new ways.