My pink running shoes have been engaging me in a stare down since Sunday. I feel like it's a love hate thing right now. They are sitting in the entrance way basically daring me to slip them on. I look at them and want to put them on and then I remember the last time I put them on I was walking like some creature out of Lord of the Rings. I want to run because I'm feeling like a slob but my energy is pretty low. I have swapped out to my cushiony Nike Shox and I'm not certain when I'll slip into those pink monster's, but, hopefully, tomorrow as I'm hoping to do a smooth 2 miler.
As I wait to finish up my marathon report I thought I'd share with you some super inside info. about myself and life I learned from this marathon training.
1) I HATE cooking dinner every night of the week. Seriously, I don't like it. I prepared dinner every night of the week for the week of the marathon. I knew if I didn't do this it would be carryout and cereal which wouldn't cut it for race week nutrition. Somehow, someway, I'm going to turn my husband into a cook. At least a couple of nights a week. I don't feel great about myself for making yummy dinners every night; I get impatient and want it done so I can move on to something more exciting like Greys Anatomy! There is nothing therapeutic about cooking to me.
2) I thought I could eat pasta every day of the week and just knew that a life in pasta laden Italy would fit my taste buds perfectly This is not so! I was getting to the point that the thought of pasta made me gag. It's really such an easy way to get some slower digesting carbs in (if you go with the the whole wheat variety) but it gets pretty old, very fast. I just wanted to eat some fricking ice cream but that couldn't really substitute pasta. Ok, I might gag again just thinking about pasta.
3) My husband may not always save me first. While he purely did this marathon to support me (I still thank him for this everyday) he did let a little of his self preservation side show in the marathon. There was a point in the first quarter of the marathon where I looked down at my shoe to make sure my timing chip was on straight and I slowed down for an instant. Well, it only took that instant for me to receive a little two handed shove from a runner to non verbally say, "move it along." I turned and saw Kris over my shoulder. I said, "did you just shove me?" He said, "well, why were you looking at you shoe, I almost tripped." I asked him how he felt knowing he shoved his wife in the marathon? Marathon running wife shover.....
4) No matter how old you get, it's always nice to have your parents/family/friends cheer you on. I was always lucky to have my parents in the stands or by the finish line for every sporting event I always completed. I don't think I was fan less for one game/race. My mom was always the loudest and most positive supporter in the stands (note her use of the cowbell at mile 22). My dad would cheer but also talk shop before and after. Not in a bad way, but always analyze the game with me, not for me. Kids will always be kids and parents will always be parents.
5) Going along with number 4, I learned how much my mom did to help me participate in sports back in the day. I mean, my mom and stepdad would drive me to practices and camps and keep me outfitted in sporting clothes etc, but it was the other things that went unnoticed that were very noticable as I was responsible for myself during this first major "training for a sporting event" since flying the coop. The biggest thing was; laundry (also see, cooking). Seriously. I felt like I was doing two loads a week of just running clothes and sometimes we were doing a mad laundry dash at 9:00 at night when we realized we were out of running clothes. In high school I had a lucky pair of black underwear that always were magically clean for every race and every game. My uniform was always ready to go and I had plenty of socks. Oh, and my mom folded my laundry and usually put it away. Most of the time, my clothes never made it off the drying rack before putting them on.
Basically, I need to get myself a maid. Marathon training has taught me that I would really apreciate my own Mr. Belvedere. For these reasons, I encourage Kris to play the lotto as he is lucky and we would really benefit from a maid.
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