I’ve done it.
I’ve picked a Big Goal Race.
Holy crap! What was I thinking?
I mean, I KNOW what I was thinking. I was thinking that a Disney race would be the perfect way to break into distance running. That I am confident that even if something happens and I have to walk the whole thing, I will be well above the pace requirements so I can finish. That there is more than enough support in the form of water stops, restrooms and medics to make me feel secure.
And that there’s a pretty cool Heroes & Villains party waiting for me after I cross the finish line.
I was also thinking that it would be a great thing for the family to do together. After all, Mr PugRunner, who isn’t entirely sure he wants to do any kind of serious distance running, would do great at the Happy Haunted 5K Trail Run. And little man is going to do one of the Kids’ Runs, which I’m pretty sure he will love.
We also have some friends joining us, so there will be extra support and encouragement, in the corrals and at the finish line.
It’s all very logical.
Except for the one little part of my brain that started shrieking approximately 12 hours after I finalized our registrations. And that part of my brain can be a big jerk.
I mean, know I can do this. Well, I think I know I can. I have plenty of time to train and prepare. I’m being consistent and my body is feeling good. So, really, it’s just a case of one foot in front of the other. Or at least, that’s what the non-jerky parts of my brain keep telling me.
There is now a solid, end-goal in sight. And even though I waver between abject terror and overwhelming enthusiasm, I’m really glad to have a medal towards which to work.
We both plan on running a 5K or two between now and then, just for the overall experience, but this will be my first big race.