Back in January when Brandon and I signed up for the marathon it seemed like a distant dream. It was in the same category as one day we'll buy a house or one day we'll be grandparents. But, ready or not, this 'distant' future has pretty quickly become the present. Saturday is the big day and I'm looking toward it with a mixture of excitement, dread, and fear...mostly excitement.
When we signed up we had to fill out an application so that we could be identified with the correct divisions. This turned out to include age, sex and weight. I was surprised that there was a heavyweight division that was delicately labeled, Hercules and Athena.
I was not surprised to find that both Brandon and I were solidly established as Hercules and Athena.
At first I felt self-conscious to be one of the big girls, but then I decided to embrace the honor. Athena, after all, is the goddess of wisdom and war. She was born wearing a full suit of armor, strong and ready to take charge. She's no wimp. I did a little extra research and found that Athena has often been pictured with Nike, the goddess of victory, in the palm of her hand. The symbolic relationship implies that victory should only be achieved when grounded in wisdom.
As we hit the trails and started really logging the miles I started to feel pretty good about being in the Athena division.
The funny thing about marathon training is that it takes a lot of exercise, which burns a lot of calories. Within a couple of months Brandon was already too skinny for Hercules and I'm dangerously skirting the line of being dumped by my inspiring icon.
Apparently you have to weigh in the night before the race so I'm going to eat a couple of Voodoo donuts tomorrow, just to make sure that I get to run with the big girls.
I have to be an Athena because I want to carry victory in my palm.