Adventures in Marathon Training

A short while after Jonathan was born, James bought me a book to help me train for a marathon. It was a goal I'd always thought was fantastic, and horribly out of reach. The book gave me hope, and motivation. I decided to go out for a run that day. When my 1 month old little man was happily asleep, I put on my sneakers, probably made it 3/4 of a mile, and went home feeling excited to be running again. I retired my running shoes, just for for a couple of days, and put them back on early this July.
This time I was serious about running, and about committing to my first marathon. I've been running 4 days a week, and loving and hating every minute of it.
Yesterday, for my long run, I set my alarm for 4:30. That way I had plenty of time to get lost on the roundabout my route would take me through, and still make it to work for 7am. I didn't open my eyes until 6, and I spent most of the day wondering how on earth I would run 7 miles after working 12 hours in SICU.
When I got home, James and I decided to have the chicken Kiev we'd been craving for most of the week, along with fettuccine and an amazing cream cheese sauce. After dinner, and 2 full episodes of Cake Boss, I laced up my Asics and asked James to help me with my Ipod (last time I started it myself, I ended up listening to the same A.C. Newman song for 3 1/2 miles). I left at 11:20 wondering if I was taking crazy too far. It reminded me of the times my brother and I had gone out running late at night, when we were in high school and needed a break from the world. It was nice to be out, in the peaceful dark, even if I did throw up in several people's lawns. Sorry, neighbors.
When I got to the roundabout, I studied my directions and diagrams and ran in a complete circle before calling James. About the time he answered, a sheriff pulled over and turned on his lights. I was grateful I hadn't been speeding. He was actually quite helpful; I told him where I was trying to go and he pointed me in the right direction. I also noticed that he circled the roundabout a handful of times afterwords; I suppose he worried I would get lost again.
Finally, I got to the end of my run. And realized that a few wrong turns left a diner where my house ought to be. Before I got home, I ran close to 9 miles and hurt everywhere. Maybe it's time to retire my shoes again, just for a couple of days.