How do I get myself into these things?

One of the women here in Kohler, Sue Field, is running the Boston Marathon this weekend. She's running with the Dana Farber Institute's Marathon Team. The Dana Farber Team is pretty neat - every member has to raise a certain amount of money (I think Sue's goal was $5000 and she beat it), they have to run a certain pace, and they have to write an essay to apply for the team. The money goes toward cancer research. Sue Field lost her Mom to metastic breast cancer. She's also in charge of the athletic program at the YMCA. She set up a neat competition for Y members - we can run a marathon over the course of five days. We pay $26.20 and run/walk the 26.2 miles, divided however we want over the 5 days.

Of course I signed up. I was excited to see that the money goes to sponsoring Sue and the Dana Farber team, and I'm delighted that she's doing the Boston Marathon.

Of course, when I signed up, I didn't take into account the fact that I haven't been running since September.

Jim's Mom, sister, niece and nephew left yesterday morning. It's feast or famine on help with the kids. Yesterday was definitely famine. So things got a little hairy and I never did my five miles. That leaves me doing seven miles per day for the next few days. SEVEN MILES?! YIKES! Poor planning on my part. Jim still can't lift more than 10 lbs, per doctor's orders, so I really can't leave Jake with him for any extended period of time. This morning I took both the kids out, but only made it four miles before they started to get restless. Tonight I did another 5.5 miles. Thank heavens because I was starting to worry about whether I'd finish or not.

I am an overachiever and a procrastinator by nature. Usually I set lofty goals (see my Headless Angel entry!) and then put them off until it's too late to get anything done. God help me, I'm going to get this "marathon" done if it means walking the entire thing on Monday. I want to do this. The money goes to cancer research. It's a great opportunity. There's no physical reason why I can't finish it.

Truthfully, I sometimes feel guilty about exercising when Jim isn't able to run, too. Jim only considers running worthy of his time. Walking just doesn't cut the mustard in his mind. Apparently walking is for the "weak". In the past, I've always hated him going out to exercise without me. Not because I wanted to spend time with him while exercising, but because I secretly feared that the time he'd go out running without me would be the time he suddenly, magically, got thin. "You missed it, Kate! This was it! This was the big one! I'm thin! Too bad you stayed home!"

I know in my heart that one exercise session does not a healthy person make. I know that once Jim kicks the cancer he'll be able to run to his heart's content. But it doesn't make me feel better about walking out the door right now, while he's short of breath from all the poking around with needles near his lungs. I can't wait until he can start running again. Then I can go back to worrying in my neurotic way about whether or not he's going to hit the magic run without me. I just know he will.