This is the first year since my very first Ironman in 2001 that I haven't ended the tri season with a big bang. Sometimes it's a good bang, other times it's the bang of my legs blowing up on the Queen K. Each year I've done either Ironman Florida or Hawaii in the fall, and I've never once had the slightest motivation to race again until, oh, January at least. I've not even been able to gather up enough interest to do the St Jude marathon, or half, which started only a few miles from my warm bed.
I suddenly found myself at the end of my tri season a few weeks ago. It didn't occur to me before the Yucca tri that it would be my last; I could've signed up for an Oly distance this past weekend. But instead, just as casually as the season started (Rebel Man, I think?), it ended. I'm not sad it's over, or regretful for not doing one more race, and I'm not even thinking about next year yet.
That's because it's now marathon season. Jeremy and I have decided that we are thinking about intending to sign up for a January marathon. Not a big deal to most people, I know. Jeremy, and I'll let him tell his story himself (if he ever blogs again, ahem), hasn't done a marathon since the last knee surgery. This will be his second.
It'll also by only my second flat out marathon. But it'll kind of be my 13th marathon also. Lucky 13! My only other stand alone was the 2000 First Tennessee marathon, so it'll be the 10th anniversary this year. Wow, that's a long time. And I have a different body now. It's been through a lot more, gained a lot of fitness and lost a lot of fitness. I honestly don't know what to expect of it anymore. It makes setting goals a little hard. But onward we go!