The Dilemmas of a Stubborn Runner
The guy who’s coming to fix the window on the passenger-side door should be here any minute. It pains me, it really does, to suddenly have to throw away nearly $200, but there you have it. I suppose it’s much better that this happened at home instead of on my way to the office, on the freeway, or while I actually had a passenger in the car with me. It still gnaws at me that I’m out $200 of my tax return, but what can I do?
I have spent the morning in a much more cheerful manner. Instead of working (because I have nothing to work on at the moment), I have been surfing and reading and researching upcoming half-marathons, both in the spring and fall. While I would like to run it soon so as to triumphantly cross the finish line, being out another $200 right now makes the idea of a spring half-mary a little less practical. If I hold off until the fall, I can set aside even more money for the trip. However, I’m still leaning heavily towards the spring and to the demi-marathon of Montreal. The plane ticket is quite expensive, but I’m hoping that I might be able to find a cheap ticket soon via Air Canada. I need to make my decision soon, though – there’s plenty of time to train, less time to actually make it into the race (the number of participants is limited).
Fall leaves me with different choices I haven’t investigated as thoroughly. Advantage to a fall race? I’d do most of my training outside, like I should be doing it anyhow. If I do Montreal, my training starts on February 13. As of right now, given the weather, I’d be doing the first few weeks on a treadmill or at a track. I can tell you right now, after a couple of months of sole treadmill training, that this prospect is a dim one.
The one half-marathon I know I can’t do and make me drool like crazy? The Moab Half-Marathon. Cue me drooling like Homer Simpson. Picture me also stretching my hands out like petulant toddler and screaming "I want it!" while mommy tells me it’s only for the big girls. I, ladies and gentlemen, am not a big girl yet even though I’ve been running for nearly seven years. I let myself stagnate, and now I’m being punished. Why don’t I listen? Really, how old am I?
There’s always the Flying Pig, but the thought of going to Cincinnati doesn’t make me want to stand up and cheer. It’s supposed to be a great beginner’s course, not to mention a ton of fun for participants. And who wouldn’t want a flying pig on their t-shirt? I’m still debating that one as a maybe. It’s not as expensive to get to as Montreal, which is my biggest concern.
As I continue to muse on half-marathons, the window guy has arrived. Actually, he’s probably not too far from finishing the work on the window. I must go and pay the requisite $200. Oh, what kind of a world do we live in when the simple act of closing a door leads to a million shards of glass . . . and I swear I wasn’t angry when it happened!
