Morning (evening, night, whatever), all. Nice to see you again.
It’s been a while. We’ll blame it on the year. 2010, I give. Uncle. Seriously, my version of 2010 has erupted in shades best referred to (quietly and in secret corners) as nightmarish. And we aren’t even half done yet. I’ve no doubt at this point that I’ve not yet seen all of what 2010 has to offer, though I suppose if I were to posit an upside, I have had repeated opportunities (weekly, daily, hourly, be damned, we’re at nano-secondly) to practice arts from Chödrön’s When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times and
Comfortable with Uncertainty: 108 Teachings on Cultivating Fearlessness and Compassion.
My humblest, deepest thanks and apologies to rhyte, who suggested the last–terribly timely, I have to admit–, and to whom I have been a terrible friend of late. She’s an awesome and amazing person. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
2010 has offered one lesson time and again: stop planning. Relevant to me because I covet control–as much control as I can muster. Problem here, of course? I cannot muster control over the world and it’s denizens, no matter how much I’d like to. I can control me and my responses (to a degree–I can, at least, respect and understand my own responses). So, I enter into the next phase of this post with not just a little trepidation–having already had one of these kicked firmly to the curb this year.
See, 2010 needs to back the hell off. To encourage it to do so, I began training for a marathon yesterday. I am running the Chickamauga Battlefield Marathon in 26 weeks, which involves, some, you know, planning. Consequently, I’m also trying to adjust my thinking about the process–rather than planning to run or even committing to run, I am working to create a calmer and healthier life (and, yes, I recognize the magical thinking I’m engaging in–“if I don’t think plan, 2010 won’t bite me in the ass!”. Laughter is allowed, but do be kind. )
And, since why stand up to 2010 with mere half-measures, I’m also running the VB Rock-N-Roll half marathon (awesome finishers medal) and a brand-new local half-marathon in September and October (Mad–are you coming to VB???). In the latter, I am hoping I’ll be running with scads of my supremely awesome colleagues. Perhaps a few group training runs will be in order.
And this weekend? Warrior Dash. It was the hat, man. I couldn’t resist.
So, here begins the new chronicles of marathon training. I began yesterday with a lovely very short morning run. I’ve been running on and off for the spring–placed 2nd in my age group in a profoundly sopping wet trail 5K a few weeks ago (yes, there were only 3 in the age group. Shove it. I’ll take what I can get.) Did an 8 mile trail run several weeks ago, and have continued barefoot running as well. Minimal foot pain yesterday from the ongoing plantar fasciitis debacle (now appearing in the left arch).
I noted some forevers ago that I had purchased a pair of Vibram Five-Fingers. BEST. PURCHASE. EVER. Somewhat counter-intuitively (to me at least), these shoes help stop the foot pain when I wear them (would that I could wear them daily). OMG. I can’t wait to put them on tonight to walk the pooch.
Today was a cross-training day–I hit the gym at 5:15 am (huzzah!) and did weights and the elliptical machine. Tomorrow is another short run and Wednesday will find me swimming about, scaring the innocents, no doubt.
So, here we are–undoubtedly as the runs get longer, the situations will get sillier–particularly since so many will be in the summer. In Georgia. I’m still here, alive, breathing, and reading. I hope you’ll join me on this odyssey and that you’ll share your own. You know, to give me something to ponder around mile 18.
It’s the polite thing to do, after all.