It's 18 days, 17 hours, and 48 minutes until I take my first step towards achieving my goal.

 

But I have to admit, I'm scared to death.  Each day I lace up my shoes and start what feels like a never ending chant, "you can do it, you can do it, piece of cake."  I step onto the treadmill or out the door and placing one foot gingerly in front of the other I start to shuffle, lifting my feet a little higher, my shuffle turns to a jog, and about 8 minutes later that odd looking, uneven paced jog bursts into a run. 

Greetings from Mississippi!

I love to run, I truly do, but the thought of running and the act of running terrifies me.  Why?  I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA!  So each day I check my schedule, sometimes 10 or 15 times, to see how far I have to run and then I spend the next couple of hours doing everything in my power not to talk myself out of it.  I have to train - there's no ifs, ands or buts about it.  I will never finish 13.1 miles if I don't train.  And goddamn it, I'm going to finish.  But what is it about me and my personality that allows this thing that I love to terrify me?  Why do I poison a natural high?  I may never know.  What I do know is, it won't stop me.

 Running log updates

(I can't update my Nike+ account from my iPad - work on that Apple!):

Monday	Tuesday	Thursday	Saturday
4.5, 10’39	3.0, 9’42	4.5, 10’14	7.0, 10’52
4.5, 9’58	3.0, 9’36	4.5, 10’05	8, 10’03
5.0, 10’03	3.0, 9’53	5.0, 9’59	6.2, 10’08
5.0, 9’55	3.0, (we’ll see)