I lost track of my marathon training log around the time I got too lazy to keep track. Somewhere between my honeymoon and this morning. Then I logged 20 miles this morning and remembered exactly why I had been keeping track - I just drained a ruthless blister on my right foot and somebody besides myself needed to know about it. Because, gross.
I met Courtney at 6 a.m. to throw in 12 miles before meeting Mary and adding on another eight at a local trail race. Those 12 miles went great considering for the first half the sun had yet to rise, so we weren't blasted with the full effect of this October heat wave. Which is awful, by the way.
We got to the trail race feeling good. I only had another eight miles to go, and it couldn't be that bad. Until it was that bad. By mile 17 of the morning I was cashed, and walked the entire 17th mile. It was a long mile. And it was hot. I spent most of it convincing myself not to walk off the trail, lay down under a tree and stop breathing.
My soul actually hurts for all the people running the Chicago and Lakefront marathons this weekend because I can think of much easier things to do in this heat. Like jump off an overpass.
I got myself running again for mile 18, only to force myself to walk mile 19. By mile 20 I wanted it all to end so badly that I probably ran a sub-5-minute mile. OK, so that's an exaggeration, but this is my story. So I physically ran a total of 18 miles this morning, and moved in a forward, general direction for 20, making for one hell of a workout.
And now I'm draining blisters and intermittently napping with The Cats because doing things like, I don't know, existing, is way too much work right now. But I'm going to go ahead and cross "run 20 miles" off my list of things to do this weekend.