Eleven months ago today, I woke up single and self-employed for the first time ever. In the words of the great Groucho Marx:
Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana.
I ramped up my running only about 7 months ago, and I haven’t kept track of every mile or minute. Still, I’ve racked up more than 121 hours of running, according to the stats I did manage to record on Daily Mile, and I’ve logged more than 535 miles.
This week, I start increasing mileage again, which is good because I was getting extremely grumpy from the post-marathon recovery period. I was practically in tears when I ran with Lori and Darrah yesterday, and as we took off, I told Lori that these weeks of recovery time were making me irritable and achy. She pointed out that my marathon was only a week ago. Funny — it seems like months since I’ve run any real mileage and I already feel out of shape.
So now I get to increase my miles again for a couple of weeks, and taper again for next month’s Kansas City Marathon and my first 50K the following weekend. If all goes according to plan (which things seldom do), next month will mark the
one-year anniversary of my separation month in which I complete my third marathon and my first ultra marathon, and in which I celebrate 16 years of motherhood.
But out on the trails, I forget what time it is, anyway.