My Final Training Run and Wonderful Fiance

For the past few weeks, I have been having serious anxiety about the race. See post below for details.

My fiance, seeing my anxiety, has been having, on average, three pep talks a day to get me confident and pumped up. He's a good man, and he loves me. I love him.

Don't worry! Don't leave! I'm not about to get mushy and weird on you.

Today was my final long-ish run. 8-10 miles was required of my legs to be prepared for the big day. Which, by the way, is in just under 7 days. Oh boy.

Today I felt a big gaping hole where my confidence in myself should be. Isaac saw that missing piece and decided to patch it up.

Quick background: Isaac used to run sometimes with two friends of his. They were both half his size and twice as fast and efficient as him. He did it to get into shape. But he's not a "runner" per se, and he hates the activity. It's boring. Aside from the fact that he hasn't done any actual running in over a year, since the last time we went running together, he's an otherwise very physically fit person. He's recently been swimming at least a mile a day, and when he doesn't do that, he's lifting, working on his core, cycling, mountain biking, and being totally awesome.

So today, my non-runner fiance decided that I needed to get totally pumped up for the big day. He, (have I mentioned he's a non runner?) went on my 10 miler. The entire time we were running together, I felt like time just flew by.

We got to talk about how we want to raise our future children. What kinds of toys are allowed, no TV allowed, what sorts of movies they'll be allowed to watch, no video games with violence, etc. (In the end, we determined our kids will probably think we're really lame until they're about 20). In between wistfully discussing our future and our family, Isaac kept telling me how proud he was of me, how awesome I was doing, how great my form was, how good I looked running, how steady I kept my pace, how awesome I was, and how pumped he was that he'd be able to tell our future children that their mother once ran a marathon!

So, aside from being reminded one stride at a time how lucky I am to be marrying someone who is so uplifting, supportive, and loving, I'm feeling pretty pumped about my marathon. Even if I'm not thrilled with my time or my performance, even if I'm in pain, exhausted, or struggling on race day, when I cross that line, the man that I'm going to spend the rest of my life with (um, whoa) is going to be beaming with pride.

And I gotta say, that alone feels really good.