Miles to Go

I’m running 13.2 miles tomorrow. I run little bits a lot, but this will be my first longish run. I can’t wait. I feel like I’m waiting for Christmas morning. The husband is doing the bike tour that follows the marathon route. He has set out all of his biking gear perfectly under piano like presents under the Christmas tree. So I merrily followed suit. I don’t have any cool running gear—normally I run in whatever t-shirt and basketball shorts are clean (and pull whatever I can find from the laundry if they’re not). But tomorrow I’ll be decked out in the t-shirt they gave me, borrowed running capris and the cool custom headband my cousin made me. It’s one of the ones that didn’t fall into the toilet the other day. The only thing I’m missing is the match to my super cool, extra supportive socks. Hopefully it will turn up in the morning.

My half marathon playlist is downloading onto my phone. I hope it works. I can’t wait to rock out to Beyonce while I’m jogging down the big city roads. Beyonce will be joined by The Jackson Five, Joss Stone, The Darkness, Captain Bhangrhe Da, and even a little Nickel Creek. But who knows if I will even listen to any of them. I’ll have my SIL Famous there to keep my mind off my sore knees and aching toes. With her, I’m sure that I’ll finish. I just hope that I don’t loose any toenails in the process. I hate it when that happens.

Atrain can’t wait for his kid run. He wore his race T-shirt around all night, posing with his “tough guy” crinkled nose, flexed arms and ready-for-anything squat. He’ll hang out here with his adorable nursery teacher (who so kindly consented to be our early morning babysitter during the hour and a half gap in parental units while we are on the road). His race starts at 10:00. I think I’m more excited to watch him cross the finish line than to cross it myself. Wish us luck.