I have about a month and a half left until the marathon...and, confession time, I am slightly less gung-ho about the whole thing than I was at the start. But that's to be expected, right? Right?
This happened last year when I was training too. I actively told anyone that would listen that THAT was going to be my first and only marathon. David agreed that it being a one-time thing wouldn't stink at all.
Obviously, I promptly forgot that promise to both of us the second I crossed the finish line.
This time around, it's not so bad. I have a new plan which allows me to cross-train and I've developing a love for swimming and biking. Since I only run three-ish days a week, I'm not feeling nearly as burnt out with running this time around.
I love that it gives me a chance to ride bikes with friends...
That being said, I'm at the point of training where I need to remind myself why, exactly, it's worth it. My weekend runs are hitting the three hour mark...which makes me no fun on Friday night (in anticipation of Saturday morning) and no fun all day on Saturday (in retribution for Saturday morning). My social life is suffering since I'm hog-penned by training. (I'm not sure if hog-penned is an actually term people use, but I'm envisioning the hog pens of my youth. Classy!)
But it is worth it. I until a few years ago, I never dreamed that I would be a runner and dreaming of doing triathlons. I never thought I would be begging for a nice road bike for my birthday. I never thought I would enjoy and yearn for physical activity. I never thought I would feel better after sweating my heart out than pigging out. After the race, I'm going to remember how great it felt to cross the finish line.
All of the annoyances will seem minor compared to finishing a really big goal.