The Individual Marathon. Seriously.

As I write this, I'm rolling out my sore hammy - my nice little "remember those hills during the BAA Half" souvenir. But when faced with memories of soul-crushing races, I did what any normal runner would do: I signed up for more races.

The Gobble Gobble Gobble 4 Miler, on Thanksgiving, is my next race. I love running on Thanksgiving, because it gets a race in on a non-Sunday (so it's like a forced tempo run), and it gives me the ability to absolve my 3rd piece of pie.

I also caved and signed up for the Jingle Bell 5K in December. Even though I despise 5Ks. Despise. I even think one of my 2013 resolutions was "no 5Ks". Or was it "no marathons"? It gets hard to remember this late in the year. But, I have these candy cane socks. And red under amor. Might as well put them to good use.

Then the following is what transpired in my head during one of my post-BAA recovery runs:

"A 4-miler and a 5K to close out 2013. This should be enough.

The past 2 years, I've run that 10K at St. Pete's Beach when I visit Ma 'n' Pa Boots in Florida. The course is flat and fast, and I typically place unusually well for my age/gender because...well...the South.

OK, so a 10K to kick off 2014.

Wait. 2014? I'm getting married in 2014. I also enjoy lounging on the couch/hibernating most of the end of the year...through February or March. How am I going to stay motivated to run through the New England winter? Which is when I'm going through most of my dress fittings...

Doesn't St. Pete's Beach have a half marathon, too? Maybe I'll do the 10K on Saturday and the Half on Sunday. That sounds a little nuts, but I can pop off 6 miles, and if I keep my base, I can probably swing both.

Wait. St Pete's has a 5K on Saturday, too. I think I remember there was something at the expo...maybe a hat trick? A 5K, 10K, Half? Man, that would be fucking hard but really fucking badass. I've never gone for a hat trick before! This should be rad."

So, I went to sign up for the St. Pete's hat-trick, and found out this year, they have upped the ante. Since a 5, 10 and half are so close to totally 26.2, they added a 3.8 mile beach run Saturday night. The "Individual Marathon".

What. The. Fuck.

So now, the schedule looks a little like this:
Sat 8 AM - 5K
Sat 10 AM - 10K
Sat 5 PM - 3.8 mile beach run
Sun 8 AM - Half Marathon

Somehow, 3.8 miles on the beach threw me for a loop. Running on the beach aggravates all my nagging injuries. It'll screw up my rest schedule between the Saturday AM events and the half. After all my years of Ultimate tournaments, I know the worst thing you can do to your legs is give them a bye, let them cool down, and then try to shake the cement out. What the fuck kind of distance is 3.8 miles, anyway (the math makes sense, but, come on.)?

The truth is, I'm scared of the Individual Marathon. And I like it.

I haven't been scared of a race in years. I don't even think I was scared of my first marathon, because I was too naive and excited. I mean - how do I even prepare for this? How do I train? Good luck typing, "multi-race weekend training plan" into Google. I mean, if the internet doesn't even think this is a good idea, what am I even doing?

I finally found a plan that will get me most of the way there (it's designed for the 3 races - I have to take what I can get). It involves double sessions of running (like a 4 mile AM run followed by a 3 mile PM run). I move it closer to my long run day over a span of 8 weeks, until I run my double session Saturday with my long run (10 miler) on Sunday.

So, the girl who can't even drag her sorry ass out of bed in the dark right now and run when it's 30 degrees will not only have to drag her sorry ass out of bed, but then drag her sorry ass out after work, too. Really? Really. The girl who slacks hard on marathon training plans is going to start running marathon volume (35ish miles a week) with 5 runs a week? Really?

The great thing is: I'm scared. Scared of that deep, black pain of racing when you're unprepared for a race. The agony of your brain and your legs battling about when to stop. The fear of running by Ma 'n' Pa Boots and crying out, "What the fuck was I thinking?!" (which will probably happen regardless of how much I train, really).

The fear of that pain consumes all my excuses. Every time I'm on the fence about going out for a run, I think about running 13.1 miles with a day's worth of lactic acid in my muscles because I wasn't prepared for a 10K/5K/4M. And the searing, shooting, gnawing pain, mentally and physically needed to get through this, let alone trying to get through it via half-assery. And then my running shoes are magically tied and ready to go.

I hope this motivation-by-way-of-fear lasts. I hope that my legs can sustain this beating. And I hope that I can bask in the fruits of my labors by crossing 4 finish lines in under 48 hours.