Why

Reaction to yesterday's posts is ranging from from "Are you insane?" to "Why?" The first one's easy: Yes. Yes, I am insane.

"Why?" is a little harder to answer. In fact, there is no one answer. Why do I want to do a marathon, anyway?

Because I've been running long distance since I was 12 (a sprinter I'm not), and while I've never been the fastest runner out there, I've always loved being out there.

Because I'm not getting any younger.

Because when will the time ever be right?

Because I've been plagued for the last year or two with stupid, relatively minor things (cysts, infections, food poisoning, viruses) that knock me out of commission and every time I get back on my feet, something else comes along and knocks me back down again, and so maybe this is my way of shaking my fist at this string of bad luck and reclaiming my body, or something.

Because every year I read the Strib article about the marathon filling up fast, and think I should do it, and then talk myself out of it. I mean, let's be honest here: this is a big, scary thing, or at least it is for me. It's a huge time commitment. How do I train for it? What if I get hurt training for it? For that matter, can I even get myself up to the level of physical fitness needed to do something like this? Etc.

But even though this is a big, scary thing, I really want to do it, perhaps for no other reason than just because.

So I read the usual annual article yesterday about the marathon slots filling up fast, and I thought I should do it, and before the little voice inside my head could tell me all the very valid reasons why I shouldn't do it, at least not this year, maybe next year though, I'd signed on the dotted line. And then I sat back grinning in disbelief, borderline panic, and a weird, unexpected euphoria. I should do it has become I'm going to do it. That feels pretty good.