Last November, when we moved to DC, I joined the local MRTT (Moms Run This Town) running group. Seeing that the Arlington, Alexandria chapter was thousands of girls strong, I figured I could easily find a couple girls who were my same pace that I could run with once and a while to break up the monotony of running the neighborhood. What I didn't know is that it would become much, much more than that.
Over the course of these past 9 months I've matured more as a runner than I have in the previous 9 years of my running career and it's become a part of who I am. MRTT is a sisterhood and I run with a variety of the girls anywhere from 2-4 times a week. But more than just upping my running game, I'm now increasing goals and in late October I will attempt to run my first marathon.
You read that. A full marathon. 26.2 miles of running.
It's insane. I'm the first to admit after my half in 2008 that I never wanted to run a marathon and never thought my body could. And I say 'attempt' because who knows what could happen over the course of these next few months. But these girls. The support, the coaching, the accountability... it's what I needed. I signed up for the Marine Corps Marathon HALF and when a bunch found out and were running their own first FULL, they pushed me. Not too hard, but just hard enough to think it over for about a week and decide I could. I didn't get in the lottery but one of my friends secured a transfer bib for me.
It's real. I'm doing this.
And at around halfway through training, I've run farther than I could have ever imagined in my wildest dreams... 17 miles. And the best part? I didn't die. And I wasn't as sore as I was when I completed the half in 2008. I've learned how to fuel and hydrate properly. And had a run analysis done to determine the best shoes for me. I've invested in amazing socks and a comfy hydration vest. But mostly I've invested time. With the weekend long runs taking 3-5 hours of time including an afternoon nap, this marathon is a commitment. Although the husband doesn't like my Saturday mornings being taken and my mom thinks it's too hard on my body, I know they are secretly proud of me. But in the end, it's just for me anyway. All for me. (And, of course, for those in service who have died for our country)
There is no time goal. No pace goal. Just a goal of not dying. That's it. I want to cross that finish line with my group of girls going through this journey with me, ball my eyes out and display my medal proudly.
And I'm ready.
I think.
So why am I doing this? Why not? We have awesome child care here in DC, our social calendar is pretty empty in this new city and I want to do this for me. I need to do this for me. To be able to tell my children someday that I pushed my body to do something this huge will always put a smile on my face.
