As if taking our daughter to college last week wasn't traumatic enough for one summer, we returned only to jump right back into the craziness we call life here in Maine. Small towns and peacefulness you say? In theory, perhaps. But for us, life hardly ever seems to slow down.
I'm up to my longest mileage in the marathon training. I wasn't able to do my fast 12-miler last week in Arizona because of the heat. It was either - stay on schedule or die of heatstroke. Hmmm, choices. So this week I had three days to get over jet lag and do my first 20-miler before my husband has YET ANOTHER dental surgery on Thursday (later this morning).
As I was gearing up for that, yesterday, we had an earthquake. I'm sure you've heard all about it. I mean, who hasn't? But it WAS noteworthy. I felt an earthquake here in Maine about 8 or 9 years ago. My husband and I were laying in bed on a Saturday morning when the bed started to shake - and not in the way you might hope. Freaked us both out - hadn't we left all that in California?
Yesterday when it happened, I was cleaning out kitchen cabinets and never felt a thing. My daughter, however, was sitting on her bed doing summer homework (summer homework - two words that should never go together) and she felt her bed shaking. She came downstairs to tell me at about the same time I heard the news about the earthquake on the TV.
It's been the talk of the town, that tiny tremor. Just goes to show we've got a LOT of excitement going on here in our town.
About the same time we heard about the earthquake, talk about Hurricane Irene splashed all over the news stations. They're saying this will be the first big hurricane to hit Maine in 70 years. Here's what they say it might do:
Of course the media LOVES to sensationalize everything, so we'll see... but it does seem like it's serious this time.
In the midst of all that, I went out and walked the 20 miles yesterday. Took me just over 6 hours, breaks included, and I came back with a nice, fat blister on my heel - the first casualty of all this training.
In all honesty, I came back ready to quit. The reason I started this in the first place was to see if I COULD do it. After reaching 20 miles, I now know that I could. So why prolong the agony? I mentioned this to my family and they were horrified. "You're an Estes! You can't quit!"
So I plod on. I have one more 20-miler in two weeks and then I taper off before the big day. THANK GOD.
Of course lack of sleep, jet lag, taking my daughter to college, and fighting a cold MIGHT have something to do with my lack of enthusiasm. Just sayin.
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