An Expert Quitter

I post obsessively on Facebook so everyone I know knows that I'm almost to my marathon race day.  Because I haven't kept up with my blog, everyone has been spared most of the nitty gritty.  I know enough of my challenges have probably been pretty clear to friends reading my status updates, but just to be perfectly clear- this marathon training thing has been hard.  I would love to say I kept plugging away with determination and knew that if I kept going, I'd be just fine.  That would be such an enormous lie, though!  I can't even say that I got frustrated and wanted to quit.  The truth is that I spent my summer quitting the race.  I quit so many time I can't even remember to share with you.  How many times have I quit?  Maybe I can add it up:

How many weeks did my husband travel this summer?  (Nine in June, July & August)

How many weeks did I spend out of the state with my kids? (Four with trips to IL, WI, IN, and WA)

How many days did we spend with day time temperatures over 85?  (All of them??)

How many week nights did I spend running more than an hour in the dark after leaving my kids with a babysitter for bedtime?  (at least four)

How many mornings did I fail to wake up early in order to take advantage of the cool temperature and the sleeping kids and thus end up running in the heat of the afternoon during nap time? (Oh, so many)

How many runs did I spend asking myself what in the world I'd been thinking to take this on and I need to do this run plus X more miles to even consider toeing the line for a REAL LIVE MARATHON?!  (You really don't want to know).  

Yes, it has been a summer full of quitting.  

But amazingly, miraculously and surprisingly to me- here I am.  THREE WEEKS from standing at the start line at my second marathon, my first since moving to Michigan, getting married, having two children and becoming a stay at home mom.  So in other words, my first this life time with this body.  Unbelievable.  

And yet, I must believe it because I'm getting excited.  And thankful.  

I am so tearfully thankful for not quitting, for real.  And I can take very little credit for that wonder.  That credit goes to my coach, my husband.  My husband's Hawaiian "don't sweat the small stuff" attitude took my excuses, my whining, my doubt and chucked them straight out the window.  He didn't feel sorry for me, he told me to do something.  Go run.  Get a babysitter.  Get up earlier.  Take the car.  Call a Grandma.  Run with friends.  Get out the door.  Leave him the kids.  Just go, go, GO.  Go.  Run.  

I could NOT be a marathoner without this kind of patience and love in my life.  I am an expert quitter.  Thankfully, my husband knows this and knows that eventually, I will even quit on quitting.  He also knew I could (and would) do this.  Thank goodness I have him to remind me.