Today I ask myself... "why??"
My neck is killing me. I can't seem to wake up without feeling like someone has taken a sledge hammer to me in the night. (Scott claims ignorance but I'm getting suspicious...) My shoes are probably too worn out so my feet are gonna hurt. The race is in Derry, which is an hour and a half away. I don't know anyone else who's running it. I don't have anyone going with me to cheer me on. It's going to be about 20 degrees at the start and at the finish (hopefully less than 2 and a half hours later) it might be a balmy 32. They are serving soup at the finish, which would be a plus except I'm sure it will all be chicken-based and even when I'm really cold and hungry I'm still a vegetarian.
Maybe it's because of how hot I look in the gear I wear. Let me paint you a picture: pink running top (purchased before the marathon in honor of Polly's fight with breast cancer... this is actually very nice); black bike shorts from 2000 when I wanted to run the LA marathon (hole in the crotch... don't ask me how!); Nike running socks (another pink marathon purchase for Polly); wool knee socks-turned-leg warmers (I cut a hole in the toes so they slide right up past my feet); hand-me-down gray and black jogging pants (thanks, Heidi!); Scott's long sleeve William Lawrence Camp Braves t-shirt (stunning grey); hand-me-down-fuchsia-ish turtle neck (thanks to my mother-in-law), wind breaker found at my mom's and unclaimed for a year so she gave it to me (size extra small, which is, frankly, a little small); Super Girl knit hat (again, left at Mom's and donated to me); and black gloves (purchased for this express purpose). I'm certain that tomorrow I will arrive looking like the running refuge among men and women who sport high-tech-micro-lycra-wicking-cold-proof-sweat-resistant get ups that count their calories burned as well as their heart rate and their pace and offer them gps guidance.... But I bet they don't have a Super girl hat.
Maybe it's not clear to me why I do this. Every day the reasons change. I have claimed that it's because running is cheaper than psychotherapy. I have claimed it's because it's the only way I can get away from my kids. (Don't get me wrong. Love them bunches.... but there's such a thing as too much togetherness). I have claimed it's because when I run I can eat whatever I want. I have claimed that it's because I like the bragging rights ("Did YOU run 16 miles today??"). All these things are true to different degrees at different times. Tomorrow after I cross the finish line I guess I'll know the reason I did it.... I'll get back to you on that then.