Here I am, hiding behind time.
So I did it. Last night I finally bit the bullet and registered for a half-marathon ... this weekend. Yes, I am that big of a chicken that it took me this long to actually commit, six days before the event. And it was sort of like when you stand at the edge of a freezing cold pool, trying to force your body to hurl itself in, and then you look down and realize that not only is the water freezing cold but has a crust of dead bugs floating on top. I looked down and realized that not only is it a half-marathon that I will be running without a partner, but headphones are not permitted.
WHAT. Why? Something about insurance? Makes exactly not one bit of sense to me. But I will be running my first 13.1 miles with no one to talk to and no tunes to help distract me. It will be between 90 and 120 minutes of me counting the strides until I'm finished. I sure hope there are some people doing this run that have strides worth staring at, or are loudly having conversations about their personal tribulations that I can eavesdrop on, or that it is OK with those around me if I start singing Dead Milkmen songs to myself while I run. Because otherwise this is going to, um, suck.
I originally was going to start drawing attention to myself and my goal before running any halfs at all. But then (bawk bawk bawk) I decided I should probably at least try running one before asking a lot of people to pay attention and uh, commit money to my goal. I felt fantastic after our 10-miler a few weeks ago, and since then I've done a couple of runs that were over 10 miles and I felt pretty good afterward. But I do need to try doing an event by myself (if I'm doing 12 half-marathons in a year I'm quite sure I'll be doing most of them without a running partner) and make sure it doesn't crush me mentally (bawwwwk bawk bawk), and also just confirm that there is not some magical amount of exertion between 11 and 13.1 miles that renders me a puddle of half-congealed custard for several subsequent days. I'm a mom with a couple of small kids that relentlessly challenge me physically and mentally every single day. I really can't afford (nor can my husband) to choose to do something that will put me on short-term disability for a few days every month. Bawkbawkbawkbawk