The Stef is full

Well, I’ve mostly recovered from being bummed out (and gotten my first good night’s sleep since forever).

 

So, what to do?

 

The calendar looks like this:  sort of rectangular.

 

Just kidding.

This weekend is the parent’s anniversary and a baseball game.  Next weekend is the 4^th Saturday of the month, and a very good day to get in a 5k training run (so I hear).  I can still swim during my off nights, and can still get in a run or bike afterwards.  The week of the 25^th is still going to be cramped with school, but I will be in close proximity to an Olympic sized pool after classes, so that will still be awfully nice.

So, what to do?

 

I ran my first half marathon on a Tuesday, late in the morning, starting in my front yard and intending to go only 10 miles.  I ran the extra 3 miles not knowing that I actually was running a half marathon, only that I was going over the bridge that had been looming in my imagination as this impenetrable obstacle that I’d have to traverse not once, but twice were I ever to decide to cross that line (go to googlemaps and check out the rail road tracks just north of I-10 at TC Jester for perspective.  Folks from not in Houston, trust me, it’s big.)  The time came to turn around for 10 miles, but I chose to go straight for another 1.5 to make the full half marathon.

Needless to say I didn’t need a throng of adoring fans and a rock star reception at the finish line to decide to do it.  I just got up on Tuesday morning, in the middle of a much needed stay-cation, and decided to run 10 miles, that turned into a half marathon. 

 

Because I could.  No medals.  No accolades.  No watering stations or rest points.  Just me, a pair of shoes, a strip of pavement, an impenetrable obstacle, and a stubborn will to overcome.

 

So, on the morning of September 6 (I prefer to compete on Saturdays so that I can still worship on Sundays), I’ll get up, head to the Y with my crew in tow, swim my 200 yards, unload my bike and head out for a 6 mile ride.  At the end of those 6 miles (and hopefully 2 miles from home), I’ll re-rack my bike, get my running shoes from my crew wagon, and run to the finish line.

Not for the rock-star finish.

Not for certificates or medals or other accolades…

 

Because I can.

And others would…  but for the fact that they cannot.

 

Maybe I’ll make it an annual thing.

 

Oh yea, during my celebration, I’ll do my level best not to throw out my back!