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If you have “liked” my Facebook page, or if you saw an allusion to it in my Project 365 post this weekend, you know that I signed up for a half marathon.

*cough* A half. Marathon. That’s 13 miles (plus .1, but who’s counting?).

So, here’s the deal. I kept seeing all of these people on Facebook talking about signing up for a half. And I started googling to see what was coming up in the area. I started reading about them, and some looked really intimidating. And I mentioned on my page that I was thinking about it. OF COURSE, everyone said I should go for it.

I’m not sure why…it could be that y’all truly believe in me, and that’s awesome. It could be that no one else really has a stake in whether I do it or not, and it doesn’t really matter to anyone else if I do or not, and Saturday mornings in the fall will come and go for people, whether I try to run 13.1 miles or not. And that’s awesome, too. That’s what the internet is for, right?

So, in a fit of self-motivation (or delusion), I signed up for the See Jane Run half marathon in Wichita, in September. Roughly 16 weeks from now.

For the rest of the night, I was jittery, and excited, and I immediately posted on Facebook that I had signed up.

Then I woke up the next morning a little bit sick to my stomach. The more I thought about it, and the more I mentioned it, the more panicked I became. I actually laughed out loud when I told my sister-in-law and brother. Because really, it felt completely ridiculous to say out loud. The longest I’ve ever run, in the 32 years I’ve been on this earth, is five miles. FIVE.

I scrounged the google for different training plans, and settled on one. One that made the jump in mileage from week to week, until, 9 or 10 weeks from now, I was supposed to be running 12 miles. I started doing the math in my head (maybe something I should have done BEFORE signing up, but no one will ever accuse me of being patient), and I figured out that, given my running speed (or lack thereof), I’d be in the race for at least three hours. Running for three hours. Or more.

It all came to a head on Saturday, when I took the girls to the track and attempted to run the first “long run” of the training, four miles. I was completely overwhelmed before I even started. I knew it was all mental but all I could think about was where in the world am I going to run 10 miles? Or 12? And when? And HOW?? In the middle of the summer?! WHAT WAS I THINKING?!

I finished the four miles, but I was beat up by the end of it. And down. It was a total crisis of confidence and I was kicking myself for telling everyone that I had signed up, because now I either had to try (and possibly fail) or back out and let everyone down.

I posted this picture after I got home, and once again, y’all told me I COULD do it. Leigh Ann, who just ran her first half marathon this spring, pointed me in the direction of her training plan, and I started to calm down. She also answered a million questions I had, and started to calm my fears a little.

long-run.jpg

I feel better about it. I know I need to take each mile as it comes, and worry about each run each week, not THE run. I know that I can finish. I don’t know how long it will take, or how much of it I’ll have to walk, or if anybody else I know will be there with me when I do it. Worst case, the course will be open for four hours to “accommodate walkers”, so at least when I DO cross the finish line, there will still be people there. So that’s something.

How many of you have run a half marathon? Do you have advice for me, like how to not die at mile 10?

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