Purgatory

I’m not sure if I’ll have a chance to blog before leaving at the bloody crack of dawn tomorrow (actually, I wonder if the sun will even be up at that point).
So this is me, two days away from my third marathon. The first one I ran I completed in 3:39:01 (qualifying me for Boston for 2 years). I did everything wrong: changed shoes at the last minute; didn’t fuel properly. I ended up with blisters. I hit the wall, bonked, fell apart, had to sit down at one point and bandage my toes while shooing away an attendant that was keenly interested in whether I was able to continue or not. And I did. And it’s my PB time so far.
Marathon number two sucked. I didn’t really like the course, I went out too fast, I drank too much water, it was warmer than I would’ve liked, I started cramping and I thought a lot about quitting. I finished in 3:43:44, missing the Boston cut off by 2 minutes 45 seconds. I know it’s still a good time, but it was still disappointing to come in slower on my second marathon when I thought I had trained harder.
This one I will go into with no expectations. I missed too many (like, almost all) of the long runs over the summer. A sub four hour marathon will be great. Secretly I am hoping for 3:40 of course, but I don’t think I have enough mileage under my belt at this point. I hope it isn’t windy, I hope it doesn’t rain, and most of all I hope Michael qualifies for Boston so we can run it together in April 2009.
I’m depressed. I’ve been down for days. It’s not overwhelming or anything; it’s just a general malaise and overall reluctance to give a shit about anything. I think going back to Lasqueti this week will give me more closure. I still have some of my dad’s ashes in my closet up there and I want to kayak out to the Finnerties to sprinkle them. That’s where we would always kayak to have lunch and poke around the islands. The last time I was up there we didn’t pull in; we just circled one of the islands and watched the wildlife before heading back.
I feel stressed and anxious as well, since my mom is moving in to her new apartment and she needs a lot done and my dad isn’t around to help her. Her stress makes me stressed out. She’s had a really tough couple of weeks. She was talking to her mother the other day and told her that she was feeling depressed and my grandmother said, “Why?”. I think that about sums it up. I feel like everyone has advanced and is going on with their lives (as they should), but that I’ve been left behind. It’s a really lonely feeling.
Anyways. Maybe this week away will be a turning point. I hope so. I’d like to feel happy and enthusiastic about life again. I’d like to feel as though I’m a part of something, instead of hovering around the periphery… waiting.
I won’t be taking my laptop, so I won’t be blogging for about a week. I’m sure I’ll have lots of stories when I get back.
They’ll be good stories.
I’ll get to the Finnerties.