Looking Forward

Week 7:
Planned: 3, 3, 5, and 12
Actual: swim 30, 3, 5, 12

Week 8 (current week):
3, 3, 6, 13

Week 9 (cutback):
3, 6, 4, 9

Week 10:
4, 6, 4, 15

So here we go. We are officially at the part of marathon training where things get really hairy. I think I said that a few weeks ago, too, but honestly, once we hit week 10, I'm in uncharted territory with a long run of 15 miles--officially the farthest I will ever have run. Actually, I'm looking at my  plan and thinking it needs some adjustment because I've got four straight weeks of ever-increasing long runs (15, 16, 18, and 20) with no cutback week. Hmm.

This week's runs might look easy enough, but I'm also working two nights (Monday, Thursday) plus we have dog obedience training on Tuesday. And we leave for camping on Friday. In other words, pulling off this week's runs will be a pretty neat trick.

Dean and I were talking this weekend about how I should have done the whole marathon thing before we had children. But the truth of the matter is that I didn't have the motivation to get out of the house back then. Two hours spent running or two hours spent sleeping in? Come on--that's a no brainer! Two hours spent running or two hours spent listening to people fight while also trying to come up with ever-better and more exciting activities without losing your mind? Hmm. Tough one. Of course, parenting has plenty of good, happy, shiny, wonderful moments. But nothing can ever prepare you for the ceaselessness of it.

To wit: I got home from my long run on Saturday filled with endorphins and patience. Which lasted a whole hour. I played legos with the girls (taking only the briefest time out for a shower), then orchestrated a painting activity (painting with children is one of those activities that takes forever to set up and then clean up, and it never actually entertains them for as long as it seems like it should). And just as soon as we've completed one activity, Ella is asking what's next. Next? Seriously? I honestly don't remember being entertained for hours on end when I was child. I found things to do, or I was bored. Simple as that.

Yesterday we took the girls to see Toy Story 3. We had barely stepped out of the theater doors when Ella asked, "So, what are we going to do now?" I think it might be time for school to start again.

I'm on my third pair of the Mizuno Wave Inspire, proving, I guess, that when it comes to running shoes, you shouldn't fix what isn't broken--even if the silver and purple of the Mizuno Wave Elixir looked much, much cooler.

In other (equally exciting) news, I got new running shoes yesterday. And just when I was feeling all badass for running a strong 12 miles on Saturday, I (of course) encounter the running shoe saleswoman who is sleek as can be, super cute, and "ahead" of her marathon training so that she recently took a whole week off. She has done two 19-mile runs. Already. I bet she runs 7-minute miles too. Meanwhile, I have yet to lose a freaking pound (seriously!) after seven weeks of marathon training. Whatever. I'm not bitter at all.

Actually, while running on Saturday, I was thinking about this mean e-mail I got last month (totally unprompted, by the way). At the end, as a way of trying to insult me, the sender told me that I think I'm better than everyone else. Seriously? Does it really come across that way? Because I can point out about half a dozen runners, wives, mothers, knitters, etc., etc., that are better than me in every single way. The only thing I would maybe claim to be stellar at is editing. I may have shortcomings, but a superiority complex is not one of them. On the other hand, if by "better," we mean that I don't send people mean e-mails for no reason, well then, yes, I might be better in that regard.

So to recap this very long post: good 12-miler not as good as running store chick's recent 19-miler; upcoming marathon training looks daunting; motherhood is exhausting; painting with kids is not worth the effort; new running shoes are fun; and I don't think I'm better than anyone, but I do at least try to be nice as often as possible.