A little ahead, a little behind.

There is a sore throat thing going around work. So I'm sitting here mildly medicated and a bit irritated as - of course - this interferes with my marathon training.

I was lamenting at elevensies the passing of the half marathon as my hard race. I was wistful, almost teary-eyed, at the thought of running ONLY 13.1 miles. Oh the joy of getting my first Duck from Disney all those years ago....

But then...it hit me. I'm ahead a bit on my training! So with this knee needing a bit of RNR and my throat, I've decided that this weekend I celebrate the halvsies once again. Yes, the joyful, relaxing halvsie. Best to put my mental mindset on something that is now a light and frothy, a refreshing little multi-mile joggy.

Sometimes it is good to be a little ahead so you can be a little behind. It helps at the times like this that happen in every persons race journey where marshmellow clouds float through your head because it is mildly stuffy. Yep, I think I'll hold slightly on that 17-miler.

Please sponsor. Thank you. Fluffels.

Little Changes.

Obligatory push for sponsorship. You know you can donate a £1, right? It's the little things that matter.

My Mommy taught me that. Wrap a present with a nicer bow, remember how someone takes their coffee, randomly send a card to a friend.

It's the little things.

When people want to change they want to change, BIG. BIG RISK. BIG REWARD! Right? Sometimes, but really, I'd give it a lower percentage (10%). The only way to make the permanent change is to tweak bits.

Remove a sugar from your coffee, walk to the grocer once a week, always say thank you... Little things you can implement in your life that can make a big impact over time. Right now I'm out jogging through snow. I'm not setting land speed records, but I've committed to my slow increase in mileage come hell or frozen fluffy water. I've not signed up for an ultra or tried to race down icy slopes. Slow and steady. Be the tortoise. It took me 6 years to feel ready for a marathon, no need to rush and injure myself.

On the same note, I know I'm reaching the hard part of the fundraising. So I've got to remember, little things.

On the eve of another running thingy.

It's been awhile I realized, so I deeply apologize to the two of you who so avidly subscribe to my blog.

I'm running a half marathon tomorrow. I think this will be my tenth. It's my second overseas, and my very first in the city of London.

When I started running 6 years ago I really didn't think that I would complete one, let alone ten half marathons. People look at me like I'm a crazy person since I willingly run commute to work and willingly placed myself for consideration to run London's marathon.

I will tell you this now: I suck at running.

Seriously, I'm awful. My technique is crap. I keep a water belt fixed around my waist. I walk, most likely, 50% of it. I have yet to crack 2 hours 45 minutes.

But I will only give up on it if my legs are physically removed from my body. It's been the constant, and in this world you need constants. (Though I wish everyone's constants were as cool as Desmond and Penny constants.) I hope, before I turn in to fertilizer, to have run on every continent and gotten medals from a host of incredibly odd and far fetched races.

And I will do it poorly. I will do it knowing that I might have a chance to qualify to run the Boston Marathon when I'm 105 and they don't have time limits because no one that old has ever run it before.

I am the poster child for people doing things they aren't good at with joy and happiness.

So tomorrow, at 9:45 AM GMT I will trot off knowing that 80% of the people I started with will finish well before me, and I will be glad. Because even though those 80% went before me, there are lots of people who are going to be in their beds or sitting around thinking, "I could do that."... and don't.

But I do, even though I'm crap. And if you find something you're crap at and you love it, then I say to you go... go and be happy.

Because tomorrow is my day for happy.

Purpose to Feet

So, I supposed to be training for a half marathon. Thing is, I'm pretty sure I'm training for a half marathon, and yet I feel lazy.

Even though yesterday I walked an estimated 6.73 miles to get all the shopping done. This means not only did I tromp around (and poorly dressed - it was freakishly warm yesterday) I also tromped around carrying 5-15 pounds of things.

I was supposed to go out again today, but England was all, like, "yeah... we don't do sunny days two in a row..." and I was all, like, "yeah...cool... I'm totally worn out from yesterday." So instead I stayed in and understood Alan Moore's argument to not have any graphic novels of his turned into movies.

I bike to work three days a week and run to work twice a week. All said it's 18 miles of biking and 12 miles of running. When I lived in Houston I was happy to get through 9, usually because the overwhelming heat made it a walk during the summer. And everyone knows that in the US if you see someone walking it means their car must've broken down. So vast improvement on my lifestyle? Yes. Heck, the last 10K I ran I ran so far under time that people missed my finish. Sure, here in the UK running is a SPORT. I mean, people FLY. It's actually encouragement to me to see others, little packs strapped on their backs, chugging to work the way I do.

But still, lazy. I feel lazy.

I wonder if I've gotten used to my good fortune. I run through cow and horse fields, then past some of the most respected college architecture in the world. Down past cafes, pubs, and through people who look in the morning shocked to bits to see someone willing to haul themselves - rain or shine - through the streets of Oxford.

Seriously, someone smack me!

Maybe it's a goal I seek, but it's not defined. It's good to have goals. One of mine is to run 50 half marathons by 50, yet I think in approaching this particular one I'm not looking to it like I looked to all my others. I look with indifference, even though I searched hard for a good one in London. Something I hadn't run before. Granted, about the time I run I will know - really know - if I'm running the London Marathon. A whole different beast, a whole different goal.

Have my eyes shifted off the 50 by 50 prize? Am I taking my home for granted?

It's something I need to sort, that's for sure. I find great solace in my slow by steady runs and bikes, but now I ache for purpose. Time to do some inner exploring...