[Warning: This post contains objectionable language. I am afraid that I swear like a truck driver when I'm mad. Please don't hold this against me. I'm still a relatively moral, intelligent and classy woman, mother and school teacher.]
As if that weren't bad enough, my IT band hurt like a mofo. It hurt just to walk. It felt like 26.2 wasps were stinging me in the same 9 square inches of my leg each time it lifted up off the ground. I retired all my shoes with heels, my Uggs, and basically anything remotely fashionable to try to salvage the last few muscles in my feet and legs that were still functioning. Running shoes and Keens were my foot wear of choice. This lack of cute shoes decreased my cute outfit options which in turn, didn't do much to lift my spirits.
It's not in my nature to let something like this go. I would analyze it, scrutinize it and get to bottom of the problem even though it was too late to do anything about it. I am a planner, an organizer. I couldn't let this go. I needed to know how I FUCKED up so that I can prevent it from EVER happening again for AS LONG as I LIVE. I checked my on-line training plan and found that it allowed for a three week taper and that I indeed was a week behind. Spring break slack fest. It had to have been the culprit. I felt that terrible foreboding feeling as I tore throught the pages of my spiral bound running log (One can never have too many means of recording their running data.) to confirm my theory. No, that wasn't it. Upon close inspection I noticed that my log revealed that I had another week left until the marathon! All my calendars and everyone else must be wrong! Wait a minute... I have never been good with numbers. Could it have been my error? Upon close inspection of the dates, I discovered that after 4/19/10 came 4/14/10 followed by 4/15/10 and on, and on until you essentially have another week!
Mystery solved. I couldn't believe it. I hope that my marathon dreams don't go out the window because of some pesky date errors in my first ever running log. What's done is done. I'd have to make a decision. I limped around the house, getting my Gu gels, Fig Newtons, water bottles and clothes together, I looked over the "Hands Free 23" that my amazing running partner, Laura had carefully crafted for the two of us. She had gone out bought Gummi Bears, Lay's potato chips and water and stowed them away at various parts of our course that afternoon so we wouldn't have to carry anything and would have aid at least every four miles. It really was a fine course, with plenty of bail out options that I could take if necessary. My mind was ready for the run, my body would follow suit once it got started right? It was my last long run with Laura who had been training for this thing with me. Once again I was eternally grateful to have such a fabulous running partner. In the end, she was the reason I made the 11th hour decision to quit whining and get out there running bright and early the following morning.