It’s Wednesday and early tomorrow morning I fly out to Phoenix, Arizona to run the Phoenix Marathon on Saturday. This will be my fourth marathon and my second attempt to qualify for Boston. Unlike my failed attempt last year, I have kept this marathon on the down-low. I haven’t announced publicly on Facebook or mentioned much about my training to friends. The disappointment of last year’s attempt still stings just a little. I’ve trained well, my last three long runs were at marathon pace or better, yet I know those final miles of the marathon are the hardest. That is where everything can, and has for me, fallen apart.
Which brings me to this post; as I dropped my baby girl off at preschool this morning I wondered if running the marathon is worth it? I will be away from her for four full days; I have only spent one night away in her short three years and four months she’s been on this planet. She’s been at my past three marathons with me; my first one I was five months pregnant with her. But this year we live in Bend, OR and the cost of the entire family traveling to Phoenix just for me to run a marathon is unjustifiable. So I’m traveling alone, staying with my best friend and former training partner, Donna, for four days, and fly back on Sunday.