It’s official.  Today marks that time when you go from 16 weeks to 9 weeks.  From double to single digits counting down to your A Marathon.  A marathon.  Number 6, and I can hardly believe that 2 years after my last one, I’m training again for the Los Angeles Marathon.

Today, I did a 13 miler.  I should be so much further along, but that terrific virus knocked 2.5 weeks out of my training, so today was my longest run.  It was good. Not great, but good.  I’m trying to do negative splits, and I’m able to do them on the short runs, but not the long ones.  I did get in under a previous PR, so I was happy.

And.  I had a lot on my mind.  2 people in particular, and one who last night in a drunken stupor sent no less than 35 emails to me.  I had a family member.  My kids. My house.  All of this I took to the streets.

Mile 1 & 2, I had accidentally put on a slow playlist, which worked out fine, because I wanted to start out VERY slow. I had originally planned to run to a friend’s house, 13 miles away, but as luck and circumstance would have it, that option was no longer available, so I had to punt and find a way to run 13 miles in my 8 mile circumference town.

Mile 3 & 4 I stepped it up.  It was starting to get warmer, and so by this time, I’m in my tank.  Gloves, arm sleeves and shirt are long gone.  I had no idea how to get the miles in, so I continually looped through neighborhoods. Miles 5-8 were fun as long as I didn’t think how far I had to go.  My legs were strong.

My feet have plagued me this cycle.  My left foot was the broken one, but now the right foot hurts, so I am all covered in purple KT Tape, which really does help.  But, at mile 9 the wheels just started to fall off.

I was about 2 miles from home with 4 miles to go, so my head was not happy.  I again traversed corners, making a little game with myself.  I could not run down any street I had already covered.  I ended up in the cemetery and heard myself say, “Hi everybody!” I ran up and down, adding miles.  I got a phone call from someone who needed to talk and for a mile I forgot about my feet.

By mile 11.5, I was getting close, but not close enough, so back up Main Street I went.

I am in compression socks, drinking chocolate milk and have had 2 hard boiled eggs and a bagel.  I baked chocolate chip cookies for my kids.  My life is really good, despite me always wanting to get in and fix things.  I go to the market to stock food for teenagers.  I am making their beds after 10 days gone.  I’m cleaning.  I’m reading a book and folding clothes.

It’s all so ordinary.  Except if I had missed it.  Seconds and inches, and I have the best life ever.

I took my worries to the streets.  I have answers.  Some I don’t like.  But that’s how marathon training is for me. Do the work, and everything slips into place.

Single Digits.  9 weeks to LA Marathon.  The journey continues.

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