It's Tuesday. You probably knew that already.
I only mention it because that means that I should be stalking the weather and packing and re-packing for Stone Mill but instead I am still trying to figure out IF I will actually get to run it.
I know that most of you want to read about how great my family and friends are at supporting my insanity of running ultras. You want to envy how easy it is for me to bang out double runs, long days on the trail and countless spring 50ks but it's time this blog got real.
My family is about as excited about my running as they are about having to say, clean the bathroom. They don't really care whether or not I run. Well, they like it when I am not a raging B but otherwise they really couldn't care less. Because my running is really my running. And the only time they really think about it is when my running effects their plans. And that gets me to this coming weekend.
I have one, as in one single long race this fall. I have not abused my family or friends as I may be guilty of in the spring. But when I spent out my plea for help for Stone Mill a race for which I will only be gone over night, a race I asked if a niece could go with us, a race I am willing to drive almost 6 hours to arrange for the kids and then get to the race start, I still don't have a concrete plan.
I'm freaking out!
So why bother sharing this of all things? Because I know that easily 90% of the blogs I read talk sunshine and rainbows about the support and help of their families. I know that I am not the only mother runner who doesn't always have that corner filled with ever ready cheerleaders.
Am I?
