I have always been a procrastinator. I was the girl finishing her homework seconds before passing it in. Waiting until the last day of the month to renew her inspection sticker for her car. Not saving any money during the month and then scrambling to pay rent. I still haven't written anything for my fundraiser show on Thursday. (You guys know about the fundraiser show on Thursday, right? The Rhoda Monologues? At Mottley's? 8:00? 12 bucks? With raffle prizes and amazing comedy? With tickets available at www.mottleyscomedy.com? Oh, you know? Great.)

I've always done it because it's never not been okay. I always manage to pull something out of my butt and make it work at the last second. It is becoming increasingly clear that that's not going to happen with this race. I can't just show up on race day and expect to be able to move myself 13.1 miles without putting in the work first. I need to do the training. I need to work to accomplish a goal. It sounds really weird, but that's not something I've ever actually done. Most things in my life have just sort of come easily to me. I'm really smart, so school was no problem. And when it was, I left. I have a lot of great friends who are willing to help me out with stuff I can't do myself. If something's too hard, I either don't do it or just get someone to do it for me. But no one can run this race for me. No one can make me eat the right things, keep the right schedule, put on my sneakers and put in the miles. Those are all things I have to do myself, and I have to keep doing them, all the time, in order for it to get any easier. This is not something I'm having an easy time of. But I'm trying to remember that the goal isn't just to get across the finish line, but to get across strong, on my own two feet. And to do that, I have to work for it.

I know I have a few readers who are runners. How in the crap do you keep yourselves motivated?

a crazy thing has happened

I have awesome fundraising news! First of all, I'm already at 23%, at just 6 weeks in, which I'm thrilled about. Second of all, there's a big "The Rhoda Monologues" fundraiser next Thursday, 9/30, at Mottley's with a bunch of hilarious people and cool stuff being raffled off. See www.mottleyscomedy.com for your $12 ticket or here's the gross ugly link to the Facebook event: http://www.facebook.com/#!/event.php?eid=119913118063655&ref=mf.

But that's only part of the really big news. The really big news is that an extremely generous donor has offered to match up to 50% of my donations. WHICH MEANS that all I really have to raise is $1700.00. WHICH MEANS that we're only $925 away, which is much, much closer than being $2625 away. WE CAN TOTALLY DO THIS. If 10 people give $92.50, we're there. If 20 people give $46.25, we're there. If ONE HUNDRED PEOPLE cough up NINE DOLLARS AND TWENTY FIVE CENTS TO HELP CURE CANCER, we'll be there. This is such an attainable goal, you guys. Let's get on it and soak this guy for all he's got!!

"They don't tell you about that in the brochure."

I have heard this phrase from at least 2 experienced sources this week when talking about my training. Last Saturday, it was Yassos, an interval exercise apparently used to gauge your speed, but which only served to frustrate and embarrass me enough to walk off the track and have a one-woman pity party for 5 minutes. There were tears. I'm not proud. TC assured me this was standard.

Then, Monday, it was shin splints. I went for a run like a good girl, EVEN THOUGH IT WAS RAINING, and my legs started to burn. The act of picking up my feet was painful. What was supposed to be a 4 mile run ended up being less than 2. I felt defeated. Weak. I complained to Vickie on the way home from the Run of Shame, and toward the end of the call, she said "You know, this probably won't make you feel better, but you're talking like a runner." I expressed my disbelief, probably with the use of vulgarity. She persisted. "Rachel. You're *complaining* because you didn't run as far as you wanted to, because you pushed your body too hard, because you want this so badly. You are a runner." It made me feel better.

Coach Andy refers to us as "endurance athletes". It's hilarious to me to think of myself as an athlete of any kind, but endurance is a word I'm familiar with. I've endured a lot. Everyone does, I suppose. Lots of people have endured things far worse than I'll ever have to. But we accept what we get, the good and the bad, and we roll on. Even when it hurts so much we think the next step will break something. But it doesn't. Sometimes we need to rest and ice a little, but we keep going. Push through it until the next unexpected obstacle comes up, and then we get through that one, too. We endure. Because there are an awful lot of things they don't tell you about in the brochure.

They`re not all good days. For every day where I`m all "Rah rah, I`m a runner, I can do anything! Protein! Stretching! Breathing exercises! Fuck your fear, like they say in improv! I`m a freaking hero!", there are ten where the inner monologue is darker. I`m too fat, too old, too tired. No one will donate, my writing is boring and contrived, I should just stop. Buy some ice cream. Have a cigarette. Stop kidding myself and accept the reality of who I am. I can`t change. Can`t make a difference. My knees hurt.

This is one of those days.

I`ve missed 2 runs in a row. A solo on Thursday, and the team run on Saturday. Right now I`m at home, in my room, watching Law and Order with a belly full of leftover Chinese food. If I stay here, I lose. I lose another day of training, more momentum, and a little more of my self-respect. In this scenario, who wins? My fear wins.

Fuck my fear.

Has anyone seen my sneakers?