My husband will tell you I have a habit of jumping in to things with both feet - diving is more like it. So after printing out my training schedule back in May for the next five months and posting it on the fridge, I couldn't stop talking about what my marathon training would involve and how nervous I was about completing distances. He put a stop to the right away telling me he wouldn't be able to deal with marathon talk for the next six months (as supportive as he is of me/my racing, I just can't get him to enjoy running!), and told me to just focus on one day at a time.
Obviously that wasn't going to happen, but I did look at my schedule and tell myself I've run 13.1 miles (completed three half marathons), I know I can do that. It's getting past that that worries me. So the first five or six weeks were fine because I knew I was capable of that distance, but I just kept thinking about going beyond that.
Given all that anxiety/nerves/anticipation, it was kind of nice the way the 15 miles happened. I was scheduled to run 15 miles next weekend - my husband's birthday. So last Monday I started talking to him about it, and decided I would skip the easy five miles and just do the 15 then instead. Sure it was pushing it, but I felt like I was listening to my body and it wasn't in that much need of rest.
Well I made it through surprisingly well and am thrilled. The moment I hit 13 miles I just kept thinking, this is it, this is the furthest you've ever run! Wow that was a great feeling.
I attempted a negative split for the first time with maybe not enough preparation, so my pace was quite slow (9'30"/mi), but I guess it's better to figure that out now when I still have 14 weeks to go before the marathon and adjust as I go. I've got a 7 miler this Saturday so I'll start to play with negative splits there and as I go forward.
Anyways, I survived the 15 miles! Feeling good. Though I need a new pair of shoes. And more Gu!
