I try to come from a place of “yes.” So much about my eating disorder came from me being too afraid to say yes to anything. I was constantly saying no to things and then ended up feeling like I was totally missing out. But everything had to be under control at all times. If it wasn’t in my control, I got massive anxiety.
Sometimes you have to take the plunge and say yes to uncontrollable situations.
Which is why on October 15th of this year, I will be dragging my ass across this finish line:
|God, help me.|
Yep. I registered to run the 2011 Hartford Half Marathon.
My friend Lauren ran the Iron Horse half mary last week, and I was in awe. Ever since I started running seriously last February, I’ve wanted to try my hand at the 1/2 marathon distance. Anything shorter than that and I’d be seriously awful (I’m built for distance, not speed). My yoga teacher and friend Sarajean ran this particular half last year and kept telling me I should do it. So this morning, armed with a coffee and an eggwhite bagelwich in my belly, as if I were being controlled by outside forces, I pulled up the website, entered in my information, ordered two shirts (there’s a finisher and a training shirt!), and paid the EXORBITANT entry fee. And then the email came with confirmation, so I couldn’t back out.
Guys, I’m scared. I’ve never done anything like this before in my life. I’m afraid of three things occurring during the race:
1. Dehydration leading to death/fainting
2. Overhydration leading to death/fainting
3. Pooping my pants. Which will lead to death/fainting but that’s more out of embarrassment than anything else.
I need to make a training schedule, and invest in Gu Chomps and Sharkies and Gatorade and…oh dear lord, people.
Did I seriously just register for a half-marathon during the first semester of graduate school? Oh lord.
Have mercy on me and the lactic acid that no doubt will be building in my legs.
I’ll be blogging the majority of my ‘long runs’ on the weekends and how they felt and how I recover. The only thing I don’t want to happen is that I really don’t want to be stuffing my face all day and then end up gaining a lot of weight due to overcompensation of calories. I just want to be at my strongest and finish well.
Here’s hoping I cross that finish line with pride and strength.
And here’s hoping I don’t poop my pants.
God, here’s hoping.