I'm an idiot. (pretend this is brand new information)

(this was going to be my deja vu post, but, them I rambled about my super classy family and really, how can we lump running in with my great great grandma turning tricks to pay for our family farm?)

So, I’ve been a total slacker this training cycle for Marine Corps Marathon. But, it honestly it’s not all my fault. How can I run at 5AM when I have to be at work at 5AM? My point, exactly. So, I don’t. And then I get home at 6PM and promptly fall asleep on the sofa watching Bones. I know, tres chic, yes? Yes.

Anyways. So, I missed my first 20 miler because I was so tired and my ankle was touchy and I spent an awesome night with some girlfriends—and I even carbloaded on pizza. But, I felt better after my 12 hours of sleep and said “I’ll do better next week!”. Which I totally did. And then, I was going to do better the next week too—which I totally didn’t. Because I went on a date night with my awesome BFF and then I was like “eh”. And slept in. Lamesauce.

So, idiot over here was all “No worries, I’ll just run 20 miles this weekend with my DRC friends on Saturday since I have to work on Sunday. I won’t taper. No problem.”

And then the Universe was all “Are you mocking me? Because if you are, I will smack you.”

And I got smacked.

At mile 15.

By a pain so severe I thought I was going to pass out or puke, or both. So bad that telling myself I could run through it wasn’t even possible. I was getting passed by power walkers (I don’t want to talk about it). The one time I decide not to take my phone, I’m stranded a good 3 miles from my car and having to walk it in. Ohhhh the rage. No words.

Driving hurt. Sitting hurt. Stretching hurt. Standing? Yep, that hurt too. I had to have the husband help me out of the car.

I couldn’t believe I had been that stupid. That I had temped fate in such a manner. I was 100% totally reliving the injury that plagued me last summer and fall. Not happy.

Messed around on the foam roller. Iced. Stretch. Foam roll. Massage. Rinse, repeat.

Didn’t run yesterday.

Hot bath, foam roll, ice, foam roll. Repeat.

Didn’t run this morning—but! But! That’s because I’ve learned my lesson and don’t want to tempt fate. I feel better today! It hardly hurts. I think I might be OK.

There was some serious devistation when I thought I couldn’t even run the marathon this weekend, and I didn’t tell anyone I’d gotten hurt because I didn’t want the lecture about attempting a 20 miler one week out. But! :knocks on wood: I think I might be OK. As long as I take it easy.

And have no disillusions of a PR. Which I don’t.

Marathon Number Five, here I come!