“You may be right. I may be crazy.”
~ Billy Joel
I can’t say no to Judith. Trust me, if you knew her, you wouldn’t be able to say no either. There’s still time for you. Save yourself. Me? I’m cooked.
It happened before I could stop it. Tell me I’m insane. Actually, don’t bother. I’ve got it covered.
From the moment I saw Judith at the Autism Votes table at the walk on Sunday, my fate was sealed. “Hey, were you serious when you said in that post that you wanted to run a marathon?” she asked, looking all innocent. “Let’s do it!”
I, um, hmm, oh geez. Pretending to hear my phone ring, “Mom, is that you?”
Shoot. That’s not working. “Hey, wow, look over there!!!”
Dang, she’s still looking at me, all cute and earnest and anything is possible and all Judith-y. “We don’t have to do a full one. We can start with a half marathon!”
“Is that better?” I wondered. “Is swimming only half the whole ocean somehow less daunting than swimming the whole ocean?”
“Think about it!”
Thousand watt smile. Look at her there, all sweetness and light.
And so I thought about it. A lot. As I laid on the couch after the walk on Sunday in a useless heap of exhaustion, I realized that I need a goal. I have done so much over the past few months, but I haven’t taken care of myself worth a damn. I feel awful. I’m pushing maximum capacity. Something has to give.
So I googled half marathon Boston and the next thing I know I’m sending Judith a link to the Hyannis Half Marathon in February and saying, “what do you think?” and she’s writing back “Eye of the tiger. Let’s do it.” (No, seriously, she talks like that. I told you the woman was evil.) And then I’m registered and well, OH, GOD. WHAT HAVE I DONE?
Did I mention that I don’t run? I mean, I DON’T RUN. You know that expression, ‘this body’s made for comfort, not speed’? Whoever said that knows me. No one will EVER mistake me for a triathlete. I’m soft. Cozy. Cuddly. Cushiony. I need a highly engineered, steel reinforced sports bra. Lean and mean? Not so much.
But I was on a roll so I went online to research a training schedule.
I found one that looked like a good place to start and went to the ‘beginner’ page.
“Yippee! They have beginners! That’s me! This will be perfect. Maybe there will be advice on buying the right running shoes.”
The top of the page said ‘Profile – you run 18-20 miles a week and can run five miles with ease’
Hmm, I must have scrolled to the intermediate page. i’ll just go back to .. Oh, wait, that is beginner. Sh!t! I’m screwed.
Ok, don’t panic.
I can run five miles with ease. (Over ten days or so.) But I get the feeling they mean all at one time, so I’ve got some work to do. You know, to get to the point where I’m READY TO START TRAINING. Oh God.
Eye of the tiger. Curse that woman.
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