Sweet Emotions

I am the luckiest girl in the world because my parents and brother Matt will be making the trip to D.C. to cheer during the race. My parents came to Boulder to cheer me on during the Bolder Boulder, and I was very bummed when I finished the race without spotting them, despite the crimped hair, hot pink socks and red and white polka dot apron that I was rocking. So in order to avoid this mix up, I need to make myself even more visible. I mean, my family is traveling across the country just to watch me sweat and stumble through 26.2 miles. And I have a feeling that the most uplifting sight to a runner during a marathon is the sight of loved ones cheering them on. So, I made a tutu. Oh yeah, baby. A luscious, neon green and hot pink tutu. I will be rocking that mamba-jamba all 26.2 miles of the Marine Corps Marathon. Because, what I really think those Marines need is to see a sassy little lady in running shoes and a tutu with an unmistakable look of don't-tread-on-me-determination. Plus, I cannot deny a secret desire to catch President Obama's eye and maybe a nice photo op.

So, tutu = beacon for family + impressing the military men and women + luring the President. I'd say it's a complete package.

I'm sure Jamie is just peeing his pants thinking about running a marathon along side his Marine brothers, family, and froo-froo girlfriend dressed like a friggin' glow-in-the-dark muppet.

I'll definitely keep you posted on the exact moment that his eyes well up with tears from the gushing pride when he sees me on race day.

I have one more long run scheduled before the marathon. This Wednesday I will run two miles for my long run. Two miles?!

I must admit that I have reached the expected time of reflection. Yes, I am beginning to feel like a big emotional ball of goo. These past four months have been a very wild ride, to say the least. And now I am just over one week away from race day. And I can hardly believe it.

What's strange for me is that although I have reached all of these high points during training, when I look back on say, the 20 mile run, it seems surreal. Like I didn't actually run that. It's like having a memory that you think might have been real but it could have just been a memory from a dream.

I'm ready. Time is dragging. October 31st seems farther away than it has since I began training. What's that? Crazy talk, you say? Walk a day in my shoes, toots. (I didn't initially mean that literally, though it kind of works.) Then you'll really know crazy.