This morning, I started my training plan for the half-marathon I plan on doing in November. The plan had me doing barely a mile, so it’s definitely easing me in. At least, I’m hoping it is; I don’t want to suddenly find out next week I’m running five miles backwards or something. Keep me with the intervals and we’ll get along just fine.
Still, the idea of 13.1 miles is pretty intimidating, even with it being six months away. I’d done a good handful of 5Ks before attempting my 10K last month, and that still felt really daunting, especially with the gigantic lake right in the middle of the course. That we had to run around twice. But I did it, and kept to my intervals, and didn’t feel like hot death at the end of it, even though I dashed about the vendor tents at the finish scarfing down every bit of free food and drink I could find. Pro tip: orange juice and Dunkin Donut holes? Not a great combo.
So yes, I tackled the 10K. But that’s only 6.2 miles. I’ll have to do that twice plus a little bit more come November. Of course, I’ll have Jillian kicking me in the ass when I do it, and there’s the promise of lots of EPCOT food and drink waiting for me at the end of it. Provided I’m still able to eat and drink by that point, that is; it’s entirely possible the post-race party will consist of collapsing and gasping rather than eating and drinking.
Well, at least that part I’m pretty sure I could pull off with minimal training.