You get in a relationship, they ask, “When you getting married?”
You get married, they ask, “When you having kids?”
You have kids, they ask, “When are they going to become world-class marathoners and buy you a unessessarily large vehicle?”
Or something of that sort.
So it’s the question: When is my next marathon? My answer: Dunno.
I would like, if I may, to sit on my laurels just a little while. I need new running shoes, that’s for sure, and we’ve got hubby and his preparation for London. The big juicy London Marathon Magazine showed up yesterday. There are 72 pubs on the running route. I feel as if invited to a new challenge – make it to mile 3.
Who I am kidding, I’d be a goner after mile 1.
But there are some things I will do:
- Run 3 days a week to work. It was good for me, I could tell.
- Run a long run a least every other weekend. I’ve become really fond of Port Meadow.
- Pick a new race before I potentially punch the next person who asks me when I will run another marathon. (Granted, if I’m running all those days it should mean that I will have a balanced equilibrium and will instead come back with a snarky comment.)
I figure a half marathon is something I could achieve with no issue before year-end, I just need to find one that excites me. Will I return to Rome to run again? Oh, yes, one of these days I most definitely will. But there are lots of races to run all over the world, each unique and somewhat mental. A girl has to diversify.
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