The past 6ish weeks have been pretty freaking glorious. I've been laying around on my ass, drinking milwaukee's best ICE beer, eating ALL the things, sleeping in, and
But, Sunday afternoon, I got my training schedule for the week entitled: HERE WE GO!!! (when Coach uses exclamation points (3 of them, even), you know it's serious). Thankfully, I'm easing back into training. A few more miles, a few less m&ms... a workout here and there and a protein shake for lunch instead of a poptart. We will get there.
One thing that I think I've noticed after having a few bad marathons in a row (DNF at the Pig in 2012, Pukefest in Birmingham, and the Shitacular Eugene Race) is that I think my emotional attachment to marathons/racing is pretty much gone. Sure, I want to do well and have a good race... but, at this point, I know that ANYTHING can happen on race day. All I can do is train and be as ready as possible at the start line. One of these days will be MY race day... and I want to be damn sure that I'm trained and ready to capitalize on it.
Training Cycle # Ifuckinglostcounttheresbeensomany is on.