i realize this has the potential to be my 50 mile week. if i can just get it over with, i'll do my 22 miler late next week, and celebrate my taper on the weekend. with family, friends, and the boat show. i'm at the point where i cannot wait to taper. so don't call me. i'm underground until the boat show. this week and next are the actual marathon that i am running. not race day. race day is magic. race day is something else. by the time i step up to the starting line, the journey is completely finished. 600 miles, almost 100 hours of training for something that will all be over in four hours. flash. quick. done. a marathon isn't the actual race. a marathon is days like today. when you're completely uninspired to lace your shoes up. because you don't have to. and nobody's making you. but it all happens anyway.
when my knees are shot, my hips are pissed off at me, and my quads are in agony, my heart is doing just fine and keeping the whole program together. it tells all of it to shut the fuck up. (yep, my heart is a sailor, too) because no matter what part of me is hurting, i'm
positive that i've been hurt worse than this before, and i'll hurt worse than
this again-
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