If you’re wondering why I haven’t been blogging much lately, I’m here to confirm your suspicions.
I was abducted by aliens.
After undergoing a series of surprisingly enjoyable probes, I returned to earth (well, New Jersey, so, debatable) a changed woman.
The type of woman I never, ever thought I’d be.
A…a… Oh god. Don’t make me say it.
A runner. I’m a runner now, okay?
I talk to people who I thought were my friends about hydration belts and minimalist shoes and something called GU.
I look at charts like this and pretend I understand.
Perhaps most tellingly, I feel great! can barely move.
Up until 4 weeks ago, the farthest I’d ever “run” was 2 miles. The only race I’d ever completed was a 5K. 8 years ago.
So after managing to jog a whole 3 miles 3 weeks ago, I signed up for a half marathon on May 18th.
That gave me 8 weeks to train. “It’s down the shore,” I said, using the native phrase for [describing] any part of the Jersey coastline. “It’s flat. I’ve got this.”
“Do the first two miles and it’s all downhill,” I huffed during my first long run.
That worked. Except when it was uphill.
“It’s all mental,” I puffed.
That worked. Except when my right calf went numb at mile 5.
I somehow hit 10 miles on Thursday. More importantly, so did my dog, Uncle Jesse.
May 18th is now less than 5 weeks away, and the one thought that’s genuinely keeping me going? “If I don’t live to see BaconFest [next weekend], pig heads will roll.”
So, have you ever lost your mind any tips for me? (Note: I’m especially interested in advice about carb-loading.)
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Go Jules Go 