Heaven help me, I'm in the States! And not only am I in the States, I'm in the States without Hubster and the tribe. Talk about feeling like you've had your arms and legs cut off. I seriously didn't know what to do with myself at first.
Granted, once I got on the airplane and settled in with a nice glass of wine and a book I've been itching to read, I felt like my limbs were regenerating just a touch. Who knew 8.5 hours on a plane could be so enjoyable!
Of course, I have completely talked myself out of ever having any desire to run a marathon when I realized that the 4:30 hours it would possibly take me run that distance, is about the time it takes to get from coast of Greenland to Washington, D.C. on a transatlantic flight.
I sat sipping my Chardonnay and from time to time thought, "I'd be running now."
Then, 40 minutes later, "I'd still be running."
And then when I woke up from a little nap an hour later, I thought, "I'd STILL be running." We were still only over Canada at that point and it all became too much for me to fathom, so back to my book I went, trying to shake this image of the suffering runner from my head.
We finally arrived in Washington about the same time I started seeking medical intervention in my mental marathon.
All's well in the first aid tent though and I'm really glad to be here.
So glad in fact, I'm off to go running shoe shopping with my nieces.