I was up super early today (4:30), anxious about today's run. I had no idea what was in store for me. My pie-in-the-sky goal (i.e. what I'm scheduled for) was 18 miles. But I hoped to at least be able to do 12, which was what I was supposed to do last week but didn't because of my knee/shin/etc.
I was out the door by 5:45 and the very first one inside the park at 6:20. I had my knee brace on, said many prayers and was very pleased when I was able to run. It was great...at least the first seven miles were. Then I ran out of steam. But that may have been for the best. I ended up doing 12, which is probably best for someone worried about injury. I just hope I can run this week normally and do 18 next Sunday. I'm a little behind, and my schedule has been thrown off, but ... hopefully it will all be OK.
This is how much I love to run: I saw two people start right after me, and after the two mile mark, they turned around and were walking back. My first thought was, "I wish I only had to do two miles." But then seconds later, no. I don't wish that. I WANT to do 18. The followup thought was, "Well, then I wish I was already done." And again, no. I don't. I WANT to experience the whole thing, mile by mile and song by song and I hadn't done that yet. Crazy but true.
So, on the weight front: All is going well. I did eat pizza last night at work but don't regret it after eating salads most of the week. I'm definitely tired of my salads (I've been eating the same thing for months now) and will need to jazz them up at some point.
I must say, regarding the marathon again, that I am afraid it's not going to happen. I just don't think I can Beat the Bridge, or, heck, even run this far. We'll see. But it's just two months away and not looking good.