the one where I make it rain

I ran 15 miles this morning. I fought for every mile. It was hot and humid and I was dripping by mile 3. I was so sweaty that I could squeeze droplets of sweat from the brim of my hat. At one point, while taking a much needed breather, I made it rain sweat upon unsuspecting little ants. They were fire ants, so I have no regrets.

It wasn't a horrible run, just tiring. Training for a marathon is much different at 31 then it was at 26. I used to think that getting up at 8 am for a long run was early. That was clearly before I had children. Now, if I get out of the house after 6, I spend the first mile telling myself I should have gotten out of bed earlier. The problem is, I'm tired and I have to fight with myself to get out of bed. Yesterday, I successfully talked myself out of running. I even reset my alarm. Then I started having hot flashes and couldn't fall back asleep. So I dragged my sweaty self out of bed and went running. Even my body is against me sleeping in.

I always hit this point in my training where I'm physically and emotionally overwhelmed by the enormity of what I've set out to do. The miles start to get longer and it feels like there's no break, no respite. I keep telling myself that I've been here before, in this exact place, and I have always managed to survive to make it to the starting line. The key is to take each day, each mile, one at a time.  

Today, a glass of chocolate milk, dinner at Panera, and a trip to Academy Sports made me feel better. This upcoming week is a step back week - that makes me feel better too.