Call me Ishmael
Thursday afternoon, too. OK, I survived my meetings and I'm back to pass along more insightful commentary on the human condition. (In the interest of full disclosure, I should mention that it will only be the human condition as it relates to me because, as Chris said to me only this morning, what's really important to consider is how I'm affected by something, as opposed to the rest of the world! I really love that man.)
So, I did my required 90 minutes on the treadmill last night. I looked like a drowned rat by the time I was done (aren't you glad I shared that with you?) but I wasn't in any pain, which has become my primary objective. I've shifted my expectations of myself and this marathon so many times that it's tough to keep track of where I am. First, I wanted to run the thing. Once I realized that I'd slacked myself past the point where that would be possible, I decided to shoot for running it next year. After a few weeks' reflection (and running into the LA Roadrunners' site), I decided to walk it this year. My original walking goal was to finish under seven hours and I started out training with the 15:30 to 16:00 mile walkers, which was going really well until I slacked for two weeks and couldn't keep up. After washing out of that group, I dropped down to the 17:00 mile group and swore that I'd be faithful and true in my walking during the week so that I could keep up. Last Saturday, I was a full 1/2 mile behind the rest of my group by the time I finished, and I've been training this week at 18:00 miles, but at least I've been doing all of the required training for the week and I'm proud of myself for that. At this point, my only expectation is to finish, this weekend and every weekend through, and including, March 7. I don't care how long it takes, I'm going to keep up with the training at my own pace, so that I don't hurt myself and so that I finish this race. Those 26.2 miles have become my Moby Dick, my Holy Grail, my raison d'etre. Let us hope, as I most fervently do, that this is not my Impossible Dream and that there are no windmills in my path!
And with that, Sancho, let us go forward and conquer!