Perhaps this is crazy but life is too short to care. I registered to ride my unicycle, Blanche, in the Camarillo Marathon on October 3, 2010. Ok, I'm doing the Half Marathon of 13.1 miles, not the full 26.2, but it's still a major trek to me. It is a Boston Qualifier Race (whatever that is). I am soooo not into running and I had to ask permission to participate on a single wheel instead of two legs. I attempted to participate in another race earlier in the summer and received a big-fat-no from the race organizers. I did not expect to get a resounding yes this time! But it is a go, not a no … as long as I wear my helmet, keep to the right and show proof that Blanche is in proper working order by obtaining a bike safety inspection. Yes sir, sir! I have never heard of this, but apparently there are professional bike inspectors out there. Somewhere.
I am unsure if I can ride Blanche for thirteen long miles. Thankfully, I have seven weeks to prepare. Fifty-seven days, really. Feeling hopeful and excited after registering online, I decided that I would attempt a nine-mile ride today. Yes, today. Why not today? The worst thing that can happen is I become weak and fall on my face, busting out my front teeth, right? The nine mile course I attempted today is four miles farther than my longest ride ever. Maybe I should have built up to it? But. But. (there’s always a but) I was feeling excited and impulsive (an often dangerous combo). So, I upped the ante, because of enthusiasm, two cups of joe and curiosity.
Guess what? I completed nine miles in one hour and thirty minutes! Admittedly at mile six my balance was not so keen, my back became achy and my can started to get sore. Building endurance over the next weeks will help keep constant control, sharpen balance for all thirteen miles and hopefully build some needed back muscles. Dare I say that I am in “training?” I have never, ever, ever in my life trained for anything. Except a pub crawl in college. And Lamaze breathing (that was perfectly useless).
I feel I am on the cusp of being, again… dare I say, an athlete? Fit? Part of the half-marathon club? The suspense of what will happen next is killing me (along with my sore can and legs).