The itch is back. Never really went away. Just went dormant for a while. 26.2 is calling me. Calling me to what looks like an impossible goal, at least in terms of aiming for this fall. My longest run of late has been 4. My brain’s sick enough to say, well that’s already 1/6 of the beast. (My brain also tends to give me the benefit of a few more miles after a long run: I’d rather not peter out 2.6 miles before end end.) I’m registered for a ten miler at the end of August on the theory that I’ve somehow gotta be able to run 10 miles then to be able to run 26.2 in October’s local marathon.
Jason’s out of town this weekend, else I’d push the 4 to at least 5 and maybe 6 depending on my hubris. I have hopes of waking up before the girlies tomorrow and putting in some miles on the treadmill, though treadmill running for me is a wonderful exercise in complete and total boredom in which I never seem to accomplish the miles that I intend. Put me out on the road or on the trail and I’ll make the distance, particularly if I don’t have to do multiple rounds around a loop where I get to make a decision to stop at some point. N miles is best done in an n/2 out and back kind of setup. Then I only really need to aim to get to n/2: after that n is inevitable, given that I gotta get home somehow.
Thinking/scheming tonight: half-marathon in October locally, full marathon on a flatter course in November near my sis. But then there’s no real backup plan: if I stick to the plan as-is right now, November can be my backup. Better get to bed, so the plan of the run in the morning can hold true, regardless.