I’m going to start writing about my marathon training. I'm running the 26.2 with Donna. It's a sub-bucket list thing. I want to run a marathon before I have to do it as the final leg of an Ironman.
I’m in the middle of week two and it’s been pretty easy so far. I’m following a Hal Higdon plan, and there have been a bunch of three-mile runs with a five or six miler in the middle of the week and a long run on the weekend. I ran the long eight miler last Saturday comfortably. My goal is to follow the plan strictly. I’m trying to check my ego and let the expert know more than me.
There’s a cross-training day that’s in the program that I don’t know how to handle. Both riding my bike and swimming are pains in the ass, and get more uncomfortable the colder it gets – as opposed to running, which is the opposite.
Checking my ego is difficult. I’m seriously considering adding weights to my program. To be honest I’m not considering it all; I’ve decided to add weights to the routine starting next Monday. So everything I’ve written so far is just a bunch of bullshit.
I’m using my morbid obesity, narcissism, and my goal of finishing – not racing – the marathon as rationalizations to add weight training. I’m also deluding myself into thinking that if I do the running on top of the weights then the marathon will be a piece of cake.
I ran six miles this morning in a little over an hour. It was hot than the bitch. That’s what I get for being lazy and letting the sun come up. The best part of the run was that I didn’t shower (because I’m a bum) yesterday and the smell coming off my clothes after I finished could have been considered a hate crime. It was awesome. As I think about it, people seemed to be noticing as I approached to pass them earlier than they normally do. I thought it was because my music was loud, but maybe it was my parfum d’Apocalypse that was announcing my presence with authority. Good times.