Race!? What Race?

First of all, you guys are awesome.  I received a completely unexpected reaction to my EXPOSED post, and many of your comments literally brought tears to my eyes and made me all sappy.  I feel so lucky to have such a nice little bunch of blog readers, and if you guys were the only people who read my blog for the entire rest of my life, that would be just fine with me.  You are all so awesome!!! Also.

Did you guys get the memo that I'm running the Disney Princess 1/2 Marathon on March 7th?

In like...6...er...5 days?

Five DAYS.  Not weeks.  DAYS.

In the midst of my 'I'm going to Disney World' brain fog, it sort of slipped my mind that I'm going to be running a 1/2 marathon while I'm at Disney World.  Sort of a way to earn my vacation, if you will.

It's not that I haven't been running, because I have.  The problem is that I haven't really mentally prepared myself for the fact that I'm running a race, because I've been completely preoccupied with meeting Mickey again.

I don't know if this will prove to be a good thing or a bad thing.  I guess time will tell.

In the training realm, I was feeling fairly confident in my running as of late until yesterday.  I was scheduled to do my final long run of 11 miles.  The first problem was that I had to do it on the treadmill, since there is still snow everywhere, and I'm afraid of getting hit by a car.

My head was not in the game.  At 1.5 miles, I wanted to bail, and that normally doesn't happen until at least 2 miles.

I'm kidding...kind of.

So, from the beginning, I just didn't want to be there.  I wanted to be at home, baking almond paste cookies and roasting root vegetables in a 425 degree oven, while wearing my Boojiboo apron and feeding my dogs cheese.

Seriously, these are the things I was dreaming of while I was on the treadmill.  I never claimed to be normal, but I'm definitely simple.  And by "simple", I mean that it doesn't take much to make me happy.  Not that I'm "simple".

Dreaming of roasting vegetables aside, I tried to make it work.  I became fixated on the fact that at the 45 minute mark, I could slurp my vanilla bean GU (again, I look forward to the simple things).

I was only running so that I could slurp a GU.  That's pretty pathetic, no?  However, I didn't make it to that 45 minute mark because of this familiar "twinge" that I felt in my left fibular head.

Remember?  The GOOD leg, that has now suddenly gone BAD?

What the hell is the deal with this anyway?  Last year, all I dreamed of was a good right leg.  Now I have a right leg that gives me no problems whatsoever, and the damn left leg is running a muck.

Dear Running Gods,

This $h!t is not fair, man!

Sincerely,

Me.

So, if we rewound to last year, I would've just kept running, and then spent the next 6 months of my life enduring agony and frustration with each run.  Yesterday, with my better judgment solidly in tact, I got off of the treadmill.

And then I slurped my vanilla bean GU...because didn't I deserve to have dessert after running 4 miles and having a knee pain?

Actually, I slurped the GU because my game plan was to get on the bike and finish out my 2.5 hours of cardio time (I'm anticipating that my finish for the Disney Princess 1/2 will be between 2:15-2:30).  After watching the end of a creepy documentary about the "real" Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and the beginning of the Housewives of NYC episode where Bethenny and Jill get all girly catfight at a charity auction event, I decided that I had enough.

I was bored of the bike (and I had already seen that episode of the Housewives 43 times anyway), so I stopped.

I justified this decision fully because, well, I had a fridge full of vegetables at home that weren't going to roast themselves!

Not to mention, my new Nike Free 5.0's are causing the most heinous blisters on the entire bottom of each of my little baby toes.  I'm rethinking my decision to attempt the break in of a new pair of shoes 2 weeks before the race.

I also never said I was smart.

I might have to resort to running in my old Nike Pegasus 25's...in order to preserve what little skin I have remaining on my toes.

In any case, I'm kind of ready for the race, and kind of not ready for the race.  I only hope that the "twinge" was just my knee's way of telling me that it was craving roasted vegetables.

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