7 Days and Counting

The time is upon us!  One week from today, Hubs and I will be southbound with the hammer down for Marathon Weekend! (kid free for the weekend!  woowoo!)

I get asked five times a day, "Are you ready???"

The short answer is, "No."

The long answer is, "I will never be ready.   Ready implies that I have trained to the maximum, creating in my body a finely tuned athletic machine ready to go forth and conquer 26.2 miles with no sign of apprehension, only full of confidence that I can and will finish this race in a respectable time.  My ready score is at zero.  Instead, I have trained as hard as I can, through sickness, holidays, and being a mom.  The only athletic machines to which my body can be equated are those shaky belts they used to wrap around people's hips to jiggle the fat away. I have absolutely zero aspirations of any sort of respectable time, only somewhat middling confidence that I will finish in under 7 hours which is barely walking speed."

The truly sad part is that I usually find myself apologizing to others (all of whom initiated the conversation to lend support and encouragement and get dragged into Crazytown) in advance for even attempting this foolishness.  I spend way too much time talking about how I'm not actually a "runner" so much as a "mover".  How I might not technically "belong" at that race with actual runners. I hope it doesn't come off as fake humility, 'cause it's not.  I am slow, SLOW SLOW SLOW, and I walk a lot.  For some reason, I feel like I should apologize for that and that's dumb.

So I'm embracing it.  I am a mover and I'm gonna move myself 26.2 miles

There are fifteen gazillion things I could be doing to get myself feeling more ready, but instead I have decided to focus on 4 of them and leave the rest to chance. 
1) Music list (help me!  Need suggestions! I need everything from church music to punch you in the face music!)
2) Last minute shopping for race day essentials
3) Oufit (you run move faster if you look cute)
4) 3 more short runs

I'm going to finish, and I hope to be alive after doing so.  It's not going to be fast, it's not going to be pretty, I might have to walk half of it or more, but it's going to happen.

So no, I'm not ready. I'll never be ready. But I'm coming for you, Mouse.