Well, after a shaky 3 and a half mile on Thursday, I have OFFICIALLY entered my marathon training TODAY. No more injuries or interferences. So this morning was roughly 5.5 miles in the pouring rain. I can't believe my iPod survived the trip intact and in working order. The rain began as a subtle mist during mile one (ten minute mile). I stepped it up to nine and a half for mile 2-4. As I came down one of my favorite "hills" (and believe me, hills in Florida are usually to the extreme of a speedbump), I pulled back a little. I noticed ominous clouds heading in my direction, and I knew I was going to be typhooned. As I began the last mile home, the rain became so intense, it was pouring into my eyes like a waterfall. I could barely see, but I had the compulsion to laugh my ass off. I kept thinking, "I have no pain", "I feel amazing", "I want this to go on forever". It was so freaking good; I sit here with the silliest grin on my face. As the rain came down in sheets--during my last mile--I sprinted an 8 minute mile home. I felt strong and energized.
That was the closest I have gotten to a runner's high in MONTHS. I have lost ten pounds somehow in the last 6 weeks or so, and I definitely feel lighter and more aerodynamic (if there is such a thing with the human body).
Even in such rain, soccer games are on the schedule. I have the BIGGEST stab of guilt because Barack Obama is in town, and all of my friends are on their way to see him as I write this. How historical and important! I am so sad I am not going to be there, but my friends have assured me they will collect souveniers for me. They are the best. I told them to take lots of pictures. I may even post some here.
OK, on deck--Marine Corps Half Marathon on October 4th. I am ready. Tomorrow is my ten mile, and if I get it down comfortably, I know I am ahead of the game. It feels so great to be up and running again. I never thought I would learn to hate an elliptical machine so much.
Oh, I must make mention what is happening above me at this very moment. My daughter is strumming her guitar in her room. Her sweet voice has traveled down into my space and she is singing Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here." She has all the riffs down, and I am so very proud of her. Life is good.