Why I ran 26.2 miles voluntarily...

A few trusted secret-keepers knew and that's it. Carefully and sneakily selected because I needed to borrow their iPod...or possibly needed a ride during training runs...or because I'm a horrible liar, these folks respectfully kept it quiet.  Nevertheless, the question most of them asked, and the one that many others echoed upon finding out what I had done, was an obvious, and quite legitimate, one: Why would you run 26 miles if not being chased?

So....here are my answers:
1. Cheryl Strayed's memoir, Wild, inspired me to seek peace of mind in the outdoors, in a personal challenge, in pushing myself beyond limits I had arbitrarily established for myself. Seeking solace in the months after her mother's death (and from a life that she wasn't proud to be living), Strayed set out to hike the Pacific Crest Trail by herself. My version: do Sunday morning training runs to the top of Marrowbone Hill alone.
2. The second anniversary of Dad's death was November 5. The Bowling Green marathon was Sunday, November 4. I wanted to do something that I thought he would be proud of, something that required me to do for myself what he, sometimes vocally and sometimes merely by his own actions, always did for me: work harder than I thought I could.
3. I get bored. I like to have a project. My propensity for crazy thoughts is too strong. Thus, training kept me physically and mentally occupied.
4. I simply wanted to know if I could do it.  I like to challenge myself.
5. I figured I would never be in better shape...kind of a "now or never" rationale. I also wanted to try something like this before I had a family and more important responsibilities than running for hours.
6. I was inspired by wonderful friends like Melissa Brown Holland who had done marathons before (and I won't lie: by "inspired," a part of me does mean "jealous of" and "too competitive to let others outdo me":))
7. We should do things that require discipline. We should do things that we really don't want to do. It strengthens character and necessitates perspective. 
8. Fall is my favorite time of year to run and we've had beautiful weather the past couple of months. I didn't want to waste it by piddling indoors.
9. I don't feel guilty eating really delicious, but not necessarily healthy, food after 18 mile training runs.
10. I got to buy a neat little fanny pack, gel carbohydrate pouches, and a new turquoise running shirt.

This was something I simply wanted to do for myself and I'm glad I did it the way I did it. I didn't tell many people because I didn't want anyone to worry (my mom already thinks I should pack my stun gun when I run), or try to talk me out of it, or give me training tips/advice, or ask me about my time. Plus, I only signed up for the race about two months prior and I followed no particular training guide. I just had the attitude, "Well, I'll train as much as I can and if I feel ready, I'll do it. If not, I won't." I certainly didn't want to spout off a bunch of crap about signing up for a marathon and then not even do it. Finally, my only goal was to simply finish the thing without walking.  And I did just that. I figured others really didn't need to know this. 

So, that should cover the "Why?" question.  I'll leave you with a few things I learned and/or was reminded of.
1. You can always do a little bit more. This might mean that you take a few more steps, or go an extra mile, or make it to the next road sign. Each time I ran, I refused to let myself do just what I had done the previous run.  This is probably a pretty good general life philosophy; don't settle for "good enough."
2. The rationale, "If I can do 18 miles, I can do 26." isn't as solid as I thought.  Miles 21-26 were a bitch.:)
3. If you don't put pressure on yourself (which I tend to do when training for races at which I expect myself to do well or when running with other people), running really can clear your mind and be a form of cheap therapy. 
4. We live in a gorgeous area. Rather than drive, walk or run some of our back roads or even Hwy. 90 and I guarantee you'll find beautiful hillsides and fields you never noticed before. You'll appreciate the seasonal decorations on people's porches and the character of their barns.  You'll take pictures of ponies, goats, and cows that you wish would magically say, "Pretty morning, huh, little lady?":)
5. Personal satisfaction and a sense of pride really are good for the soul.

***

Did I mention that when you run you don't feel as guilty about eating crap?

 

In a homage to the fallen giant, Hostess, I offer you Homemade Zingers...



I used the recipe found at: Homemade Twinkies and Zingers

Tomorrow we'll probably find Waffle singing a little Prince in the bathtub

Bet you didn't know that you can actually bypass Campbellsville if trying to get to Knifley from Burkesville, did you? On September 18, after two convenient store stops, the latter of which confirmed both my faith in old men who eat breakfast at locally-owned gas stations and the fact that I had indeed stayed on Hwy 55 rather than veering right on 551, I arrived at the Janice Holt Giles cabin in rural Adair County. I had gone for a couple of reasons. A library patron had recommended that I check out "Kentuckians Reading Kentuckians," an annual event that gives local authors a chance to read their own work or the work of their favorite Kentucky writer. It was also just a pretty morning, the kind that reminds you that fall is in fact a few days away - insert any seasonal cliches that involve the word "crisp" -, a morning that necessitates a drive on a country road (or in my case, numerous roads, several of which were completely unnecessary).

Upon arriving, I took out my lawn chair, Avett Brothers bag (which housed my favorite Wendell Berry book, prep material in case one of the readers didn't show up), and camera. I walked past the pond, quietly stood while the presenter at the time finished her excerpt, and then made my nest under a maple tree (which I quickly identified as a maple not because I had a horticulture class in high school - sorry, CLT - but because I recognized the leaves from a hockey uniform). Comfortable with both my partly-shaded, partly-sun exposed furniture arrangement and the fact that every other attendee had a good ten years on me, I settled in for what turned out to be a lovely day.

*I got such a kick out of a couple, probably 75-80 years old, who wore matching shirts and performed a "duet poem" about cheating spouses. I enjoyed them even more in retrospect when I realized (the following Thursday night) that they were actors in the Barnlot Theater's production of To Kill a Mockingbird.
*I wish I owned the folk-artsy cabbie hat that Lynwood Montell so gracefully pulled off.
*I had the opportunity to hear Darlene Campbell, an elementary school teacher from Adair County, read some of her own poems and an excerpt from an upcoming novel. I respected her comment: "I make a living from teaching; let the writing money go to something that matters" - a statement made in reference to the proceeds from I'm Listening Momma. I was moved by her poem, "If The Devil Had a Name," a personal denunciation of cancer (her father is also battling the disease right now). I enjoyed her engaging presentation style and the laid-back sincerity clearly evident during our one-on-one lunch time chat.

If you get a chance, read some of Janice Holt Giles' work, be on the lookout for Darlene Campbell's upcoming novel, and consider attending next year's event...with or without a significant other and/or matching shirts.
__________________________________________________
This has been my piddle project the past couple of days after work...
This was Waffle's old doghouse. Mom decided that we needed to put the much nicer one (that no dog was using) in the pen for everyone's favorite dog (despite the fact that we named him "Waffle"). I decided to fix this one up for Lucy and Willie.
My trusty tools. I love that the saw handle is held together with duct tape. If this doesn't scream Curtis and Jackie, nothing does.
Well, it's not quite finished (I'm going to paint it this weekend), but I'm happy with the progress so far. We decided long ago that if they could actually write their names, Lucy would do hers in a rather dainty cursive, Willie in big block print.