Fun fact about me: I've never completed a half-marathon. I've done five marathons, countless 12-milers and more than a few 14-milers, but never knocked out an official 13.1.
Building on the momentum from our Virtual Christmas Story 10K in December, my husband and I set our sights on the Martian Invasion of Races half-marathon in April. I'd done the marathon last year, and while I swore off future spring marathons as long as I wintered in the Great White North, a half still seemed a reasonable goal. Plus, my husband has never really run anything longer than a 10K, so it would be the first half for both of us. I put together a training plan and taped it to the fridge alongside the Martian race flier.
Well, you know what they say about the best-laid plans. This winter has been horrible, with Polar Vortex after Polar Vortex showing no mercy. And while I don't mind running in reasonably cold weather, we were experiencing negative wind chills. And I am way too klutzy to put icy sidewalks to the test. I almost fell on my butt at least three times this morning just taking the dogs out.
I've been doing 9-10 miles and would probably be in half-marathon shape by the Martian, but I'd be doing it alone. And that pretty much defeats the purpose. So, we made the decision to try to do the 10K together instead.
We'll still get a t-shirt and even a medal, and it'll still (most likely) be a good time. I'm a bit disappointed we couldn't stick to our original goal, but a 10K is nothing to sneeze at, either. Plus, there wasn't much I could do about the Polar Vortex Onslaught. There are only so many miles I can run on a treadmill.
Most of all, it supports my mission of bringing my husband over to the running Dark Side. Mwa ha ha ha.
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