Don’t call it a comeback…

So remember all these silly “D” words running thru my head a couple weeks ago….doubt, despair, dread, death march?? I take it all back.

Given the fact that my 9 mile jaunt two weeks ago was absolutely tortuous….I was petrified going into my first (ever!) 10 miler yesterday. My confidence was shot and I was also coming back from an unexpected 5 mile week due to some wretched illness. Needless to say, “pumped” was the furthest thing from my current vocabulary.

Then something magical happened.

I ran 10 miles.

I ran 10 miles and I felt amazing. I felt strong, I felt confident and I felt like I was holding back vs. secretly wanting to trade places with the 3 year old in front of me comfortably riding in his little bike trailer. “Dude, there’s totally enough room for me in your sweet ride…wait up!”

Although I originally had an 11 mile run in my training sched, the 5 mile week sort of derailed that plan. So, 10 miles it is. The farthest I have ever run and the furthest I will have ever run come race day morning.

Funny thing is I’ve never been so ready to tackle 13.1 and make it my bitch.

14 days and counting….let’s do it.

Week 9 mileage: 5 miles

Week 10 mileage: 23 miles

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