1:43...9 miles. 40:something...4 miles.

It's been a decent running  week. My goals for training for the Flying Pig largely involve consistency. So I give myself five stars for a week if I manage to get in two runs during the week and then a Saturday and Sunday run. This week was a four star week--one run during the week and then the Saturday and Sunday runs happened. One of the hardest parts about starting a marathon training program post-baby is recognizing that having a two-year-old baby means that you have to make choices between training and family time, and family time is often going to win.

4 miler--Jessie Beam Frozen Four Mile
We entered a benefit race on Saturday morning for a student who had a serious infection this fall, and the money from the run was going to benefit the family. It was supposed to start at 9:34, but we had a snow fall on Friday that actually caused the course and park to be too frozen for the run. Irony. The race started at 1:30.

For me, it was a decent run for where I am right now. Something like 10:12 average for the run. I was cold. It was on gravel paths. I started out a little fast, so my third mile was my slowest. Low point? The finish. Some chick decided to step in front of me right when we were crossing the finish line. Okay, let's take a moment here. First, it's a benefit race, and I was placing 123rd overall, so neither she nor I were going to take home any hardware. Second, I'm not actually sure that she stepped in front of me, but the guy at the finish line said that she did. I'm too stinking competitive, really. A) She's a jackass for pulling that nonsense at the finish line and b) I look like a jackass if I complain about it because if it really doesn't matter, then why should I care?

Sunday long run...9 miles
We are all sick. Ruby started on Thursday. Kevin started on Friday night. I started on Saturday. Saturday night was misery for us all. Ruby was up for most of the night because when she wasn't up, she was coughing. And when she coughed, she ended up nearly vomiting or vomiting because her cough was so strong. So by Sunday morning, I think I had had about four hours of sleep. Kevin was on the couch coughing. I just wanted to curl up in bed. But, as I told Kevin, when you've committed to a marathon, you don't get the luxury of skipping a long run. So I strapped on the shoes and headed out the door.

There isn't really much of consequence to report other than that I covered the distance. This week's head game was to count to 1,000 steps (yes, you read that correctly) and then take a one-minute walk break to fuel up with water or gel. That worked really well up until about mile 7 and then I started to feel run down and took breaks after 500 steps.

I must not have been in really awful shape at the end of the run because I was able to do the math (amazing how the ability to do math has become my fatigue gauge over the years) and figured out that if I hold that pace (11:24) for the marathon, I'm looking at a five-hour marathon. My PR for the marathon is 4:31, and my PW is probably in the 5:25 range if you don't consider the times on my Ironman marathons (I have no clue what those were right now). I'd rather be in the 4:45 range. I've got to get my pace down to at least an 11 minute mile to do that. I ran a 2:29:20 half marathon in October. Hmmm. Maybe, for right now, I should say I'm shooting for sub-5.

Now, where's that cold medicine?