Chapter 8ish, 3030

I feel like my heart is going to explode. Holy crap; why did I let myself get so out of shape? A better question might be why the hell did I think running a marathon would be a good thing to add to my list? I mean I haven't even gone 2 miles and my legs are heavy and the peson at the fitness desk is charging up the AED; eyeing me as he does. Let's be honest for a second, I'm really not a runner. I mean yeah I have the running clothes, shoes, heart rate monitor and subscription to Runner's World; phssh but please that doesn't make me a runner. And to be COMPLETELY honest, I don't even like running that much, it's the way I feel AFTER the fact and sometimes I have to wonderful if it's even worth it.

I can do this, it's only 3 miles. I've run 3 miles plenty of times before; if I could do it then I can do it now. Who cares if I haven't laced up the 'ole running shoes in oh 8 months? (Who am I kidding it's been a freaking year) I move the towel to see how far I've gotten on this God forsaken thing, WHAT?! 1.75 miles? You have got to be kidding me, I still have over a mile to go? I will never make it; if anything the treadmill will keep going and my body will be laying at the end when my head repeadly hitting the tread. This was a bad idea, I should have signed up for a half marathon. Oh wait, I did that too. What kind of crazy you-can-do-anything (even though you haven't done much in the past 6 months) drugs am I on when I sign up for these events? What am I trying to prove to people, let alone myself? I mean am I a disappointment if I don't run 26.2 miles? Will people be able to look at me and think 'Oh there's no way she's ever done a marathon.' Better yet, what will people think when I tell them I have done a marathon. I'll tell you what they'll think, that I'm out of mind stupid and obviously enjoy torturing myself.

My towel slides off the treadmill tripping me on the way down. I catch myself but the whole process is watched by every single person in the cardio room. It's like they've never seen a girl run on a treadmill before. Wait, they have and yet they would have never thought someone that looks like they're so in shape could possibly be THAT out of shape that she can barely keep up with the 6.2 pace, breath (wheez) as if she were 250 lbs, or land so loud that you would have thought it was her first time running. It might be a good time to tell you that yes, I do look like I'm in shape but it is all a lie and I have depended on that lie long enough. I'm tired of people thinking I could do a plank for 2 mins when actually I can barely hold one for 30 seconds.

Ok Emily, enough with the Negative Nancy, tell her to shut up and focus. You CAN do this,  the question is do you want to? I mean no one will have to know that you changed your list a few times. Well your family will know because you already told them you were running it, and everyone at work, the girl behind the counter at the running store, your husband, the cab driver from 2 weeks ago and of course don't forget your dog trainer. Damnit, why do I have such a big mouth, don't I know by now that my failures are less embarrassing when no one knows about them. Correction, it's almost worse beacause I know, and knowing that I have failed or quit yet another goal or dream is worse than anything. I'm tired of letting myself down. I do want to do this; so many people have talked about what an experience running a marathon is. I mean I'll be pushing myself to my body's limits. Wouldn't it be nice to know what my limits are, or better yet find out that something I once thought was a limit isn't anymore?

I smile to myself, crank up my Chevelle song on my ipod and hop back on the treadmill. I decide not to replace the towel. I don't need to keep this a secret and I don't need to hide any of the information that's on the treadmill from me or anyone else in the room for that matter. I pick up the pace to 6.3 and give the thumbs up to the trainer behind the desk (no life saving needed today my man) As I feel the sweat drip down my back, feel my leg musles flex and relax as they carry my body in the forward motion and see my reflection in the mirror I realize; yes, yes I do enjoy torturing myself.