Three Down, Nine to Go

     Three weeks in and where does it get me? 40 miles farther, 1/2 minute faster, and flopsy's on the ropes.  I see this race and my preparatory training as the past, present, and future me.  In 2000, I took on a similar challenge, but back then boy was I naive.  Running wasn't something I did, I knew nothing about pacing, intervals, body glide, gel, cross training.  Exercise came in the form of 45 minutes classes in brightly lit gyms, with trendy music and fairly attractive middle aged men.  But for some reason I woke up and decided it was time for me to run a marathon.  3 1/2 months later I crossed the finished and ran to the edge of the Pacific in awe of what I achieved.

     To this day, I believe finishing that race was my greatest personal accomplishment.  So each day I lace up my shoes, pull up my running pants, and head out the door.  I understand how addicts can live their lives believing next time it'll feel as good as it did the first time.  I believe it, as my tracker ticks away the miles, one at a time. In a way I'm chasing my own high, struggling for my next win, hunting down success, whatever you want to call it...

     It's week three and I have a long way to go but I'm not stopping until I reach the waters edge, smell the sea spray and feel the warmth of the ocean breeze across my face....or something like that.

...and yes, the really dark chick on the right is me