Busy fizzy

Well it's turned out to be a pretty busy month for us! So busy, all my running plans flew right out the window. Probably somewhere along Highway 128 last week. Maybe at my baby brother's graduation which was followed by a barbecue hosted at my house. Darn that delicious potato salad and ice cream cake. When we returned from our camping trip, I had gained four pounds back. Grr. I was hoping that with all the walking around we did I at least kind of balanced out the cupcakes and extra calories that come with beer battered halibut and bacon wrapped albacore. Yeeeaaaaaaahhh, not so much.

I started off this week right, with two miles on Monday and three miles yesterday. Nothing today, not yet anyway. The days are getting hotter and hotter and I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to get any mileage in unless I do it first thing in the morning before anyone gets up. Yesterday was AWESOME. I had my doubts, especially when just a few yards into it, I experienced ponytail fail. My hair is pretty thick and rambunctious, and when I tried to tighten the hair tie, it snapped in half. So there I was standing on the side of the road, looking like a lost lion/runner/flower child trying to figure out what to do. Tied the dang thing back together and luckily it held. I kept telling myself, 'three miles, three miles, three miles'. At around the one mile mark, I felt like quitting already. For whatever reason I started thinking of a few years ago when a co-worker was telling me how he makes his candied yams. He said that he adds butter until he thinks he can't possibly add more, and then he adds more. I thought about how my life was like that in a lot of ways. How I didn't think I could possibly eat another bite, and yet I did. And how I couldn't possibly weigh any more, and holy cow, I did. Why haven't I ever used that theory for the positive side of my life? For once, why can't I just go the extra step? So my new motto is "When you think you can't possibly go any further, go further." So I pushed it yesterday. Pushed it past the jackass truck drivers honking their air horns and that one passenger that actually hung out the window and yelled at me (truly, I swooned). Pushed it until I hit the 1.5 mile mark where I could finally turn around. Pushed it all the way until I started wheezing and decided that I had made it close enough to 3 miles to start cooling down. My husband thanked me for that, said that he would not be happy to hear that I collapsed somewhere along West Capitol. =o)

I can't wait for October 2nd when I can truly put myself to the test and finish the half marathon that I am training for. It will be 13.1 miles of pure torture I'm sure, but I can't wait to have that sense of accomplishment that will accompany crossing the finish line. I especially can't wait to have rights to put a 13.1 sticker on my car! Fifteen weeks to go....