Life in the long, slow lane

Marathon training is so much more than I thought it would be.

I suppose in my running naivety and pre-training obnoxious enthusiasm I assumed it would all come down to simply running for miles and miles, day in and day out. Much to my surprise, training has become precious to me, like “bent over in a corner “gollum….gollum” precious.” It has consumed most aspects of my life.

“Sorry, can’t go out tonight….long run tomorrow morning.”

“Protein, protein, must.have.more. protein!”

“I hate hills, I love hills, I hate hills, I LOVE hills!”

It is all madness, but the best kind of madness.

Shuffling along on my 12 miler this weekend (in the California heat wave…triple digits means 5am wake up for Lauren), I’m trapped in my mind. “Lauren, why are you doing this, it’s disgustingly hot, you could be sleeping right now, grumble grumble grumble.” All of a sudden I cross paths with a fellow early morning masochistic runner. Flashing me a big, understanding smile and a thumbs up I am officially renewed! Alright, this is why runners are some of the best people. They understand! I can do this, this is great!

Fast forward an hour and I’m home, celebrating with a post-run protein shake. “Golly I love running,” I think to myself euphorically! It’s all up and down. Dread and excitement battle each other in my body as I think of my 13 miler this coming weekend.

To hope and madness, Lauren.

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