So it begins...

If you're reading this blog, you're probably related to me or a friend that I goaded into it, but regardless of who you are, thanks for reading. My husband, Graham, convinced me to start blogging about this very stupid thing that I decided to undertake: the Boston Marathon. This blog will describe my attempt to get myself ready, in only 14 weeks, for the Boston. The title of this post pretty much sums up my feelings about running it...that and my deep fear that I might dump my pants in front of thousands of spectators.

Yeah, I married Harry Potter...

Two weeks ago I was a contented CrossFitter, sweating my buns off at CrossFit West about 5 times a week and doubling up on a few days with jogs. The jogs were easy and the WODs were tough and overall, things balanced each other out. I could comfortably kick it for a 5 mile trail run and I felt like I was improving at CF, building up a tiny bit of endurance with my kipping pull ups. I should mention that my hands were quickly taking on the texture of twin cheese graters...Graham will back me on this. When I try to soothingly rub his arm or neck, he'll often pull away in pain as my calloused skin rasps against his. Oh well, a little thing like lumberjack hands was not going to make me leave CF. We'd been CrossFitting for about eight months since we began in an effort to tone up before our wedding. Suffice it to say, we didn't stop after the wedding because it really is as cool and addicting as everyone says. We were immediately hooked and I wasn't sure what could make me stop...I certainly didn't think it would be to run a marathon.

I am predicting that marathoning will not be nearly as fun or addicting, but who knows, my predictions are usually way off.