I am kind of nervous.

I'm not sure I'm really a race kinda gal.  Years ago, when Lauren showed so much love of {and flair for} swimming, we enrolled her in a swim team.  She loved the water, the camaraderie, the gliding through the water.  After her first meet I asked "so, what'd you think? Was it great?" She thought for a minute, shrugged, and said "I like the swimming part but why does it have to be about how fast you are?"  It made me laugh at the time (it pretty much encapsulates L's approach to many things) but I think I fully know what she meant.

I love the running; but oh, the pressure! Ready, set, go! Now!

Still, it's been great to have something to shoot for.  Greg has been much more serious about the training and is completely ready.  Meanwhile, I've been banking the miles but at the same time enjoying the scenery, alternating walking and running, feeling better and stronger.  Just not necessarily faster.  

Truth be told, I'm the one putting the pressure on myself.  Who even cares if I walk the whole thing?  Nobody.  Well, me.  And there's the rub.  I'm not fond of being a beginner, a novice.  Slow.  But it's good for me. (Check out this research about the benefits of going outside your comfort zone ["the stretch zone" they call it].  Our brains like it!) And, in this case, I'll get a t-shirt out of it when it's over...