SIX DAYS until my first (and quite possibly last) marathon. I haven't written much about my training because, well, "I went out and ran for 3 hours on Saturday morning" just isn't very interesting. But here we are, at the end of the road. It's been an interesting journey. Let's recap, shall we? Some highlights of Marathon Training With Kate:
*Falling off a moving treadmill in front of all the "popular boys" at the gym. I got stuck laying on my side, laughing so hard that I could not get up, the rubber stripping off the top 12 layers of skin on my leg, until the machine decided to spit me off the back. Seven months later, there are still people who were at the gym that day who avoid eye-contact.
*More um, "pit stops" than I care to remember during long runs, including one, out sheer desperation, on the grounds of a church.
*Running into a parked car, in broad daylight, and chipping my front tooth. The good news was that it was just a week prior to my family's "Hillbilly" party, so I held off getting it repaired until after the party. I definately deserved a prize for "most authentic teeth".
*Learning that at about mile 14, my body decides it has had enough of this stupid, monotonous running activity and it rebels in the form of searing knee and hip pain. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to the last 12.2 miles of the marathon.
But despite being the world's biggest quitter (except when it comes to wine and ice-cream consumption), I have stuck with my training and I am going to run a marathon, people! Friends from the coast are coming to Portland to celebrate/act as pall-bearers. There will be a pre-race dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant (aka the Last Meal) and cupcakes for Anna's birthday. There will be pain and suffering and ice-baths. There might be crying. But there will also be pride and accomplishment.
And there will be Guinness. Lots and lots of Guinness.