As I near the end of the first quarter of training these are my thoughts:
I’m totally killing this . . . except when I’m not.
I should be happy just to get to the finish line . . . but I think I could totally PR!
My legs are so tired . . . which means they’re getting stronger, right?
And finally, I think this may just be my last marathon for a couple of years.
I am so grateful to be able to run Boston this year. I am so grateful that I have friends to train with. I am so glad I don’t have to wake up early in the morning to run – even if I do have to take my kids with me instead. Running is my play. It’s where I find the energy to do all those other things I find joy in. And I am so grateful that I get to do this.
But it’s hard to be doing this and thinking that I could be doing it better. I could be running faster if I didn’t have the stroller. I could be putting in more miles if I didn’t have to schedule nap time for Little Miss. I could ignore that niggle in my knee if I wasn’t worried that it could sideline me during my peak training weeks. And when I think about the miles I am missing because I can’t push the stroller through the snow, or the speed work that didn’t get done because my legs are too tired from riding the bike over the bridge, or the number of times I had to walk up the hill last week because my legs and lungs just couldn’t do it – I just have to remind myself that I’m doing the best I can.
My heart is in it. I’m trying. I’m working hard.
And three months from today, when I’m standing at the start line in Hopkinton, I’ll remember that. And then I’ll just do my best. It may be my last chance. At least for a little while.