When I signed up months ago to run the Boston Marathon I was filled with that excitement I get every time I commit to a race. A chance to summon my strong “inner runner” and conquer a course. And there’s “that feeling”…the one that greets you as you are crossing the finish line… sometimes it is accompanied by a sense of utter relief or an endorphin induced euphoria. But it is mostly a feeling of accomplishment for completing a difficult task. It is for that moment that I train. A high price to pay some may say. I don’t agree. This reward is perfectly proportionate to the effort. Ask any marathoner. Boston, however, is the exception. The greatest effort is in making it to the starting line. It’s this feeling and more.
So as I make the transition from maintaining to training there lurks my inner couch potato mourning the loss of 10pm ice cream breaks and sleeping in. In my world there is no angel and devil on my shoulders but there sits a fully trained runner on one side (in her skinny Asics tights) and a rounded middle aged woman (in her pajamas) eating a bowl of Java Chip on the other. I love them equally. Unfortunately there is no room for both enroute to the Boston Marathon. It’s a tough race and I can no longer wait to get my groove on. 12 weeks of work ahead: long runs, speed work, lots of hills…and so much more.