I am so glad to "hear" you guys talk this out. E, I know you are afraid of the distance. I was terrified as I trained for my first 10 miler. If you don't have respect for the distance, you are naive. You have to have faith in your training plan and trust me that it will all come together on race day. I, of course, will be neurotic as hell.

Cathy, I can't wait to meet you in person! I have really enjoyed your posts. Your perspective is great for all of us. I also agree that scheduling a few races prior to the Army Ten Miler is a very good idea. October is a long way away. For many of us, this time is well spent building that base of running milage so that in a few months, you should know what type of runner you are and you can choose a 10 mile training plan best fitted for you. Of course, you are right that we don't want to loose sight of our fun. For some of us (E), that neurosis is our drive and believe it or not, it can be fun too. We drive everyone crazy, but it is the challenge that carries us. As long as we recognize it and are able to laugh at ourselves, we will be OK. I have learned a few things while I was in that neurotice running state:

Story 1: My family was visiting my inlaws in Northern Vermont over July 4 weekend. Every year the very small town of Danville has a run that goes up this mountain and back down. It is about 6 miles total. Well, I line up to start dressed in my Adidas running shorts and matching tank top among Danville's country boys dressed in their finest denim shorts and T-shirts. There are no numbers, after all, everyone knows everybody else so that's not neccessary. There is no big clock, just the mayor and his watch, ready to yell, "Go." And when he yelled, I took off. I got to the top of the mountain and started back down (yeah downhill). This is where I tell you that ankle bracelets were popular and mine was cutting into my ankle. As I turned the corner to come back down, I took notice of any women in front of me (nope, me in first place), and then started looking for the women coming behind me to see how close they were (long way back, no threat). So, I am feeling pretty good about myself, but that damn bracelet hurts. I look down to see that it has actually cut into skin and there is blood. At the same time, I look to my right and see the most beautiful view over the mountains of Vermont on an absolutely beautiful day. I realize that I am stupid. I am in first place, no one is challenging me, I am missing the view and I am hurt. I won't even get the satisfaction of beating a time since there is no big clock. So, I stopped, appreciated the view, smelled the summer air and took that damn bracelet off. The, I promised myself I wouldn't miss the rest of the run and enjoyed every bit of it. I won anyway, I don't know what my time was. I didn't get a medal or trophy, but it is one of my most memorable races, because it helped me learn a bit more about me.

Story 2: E made mention of this one a while ago and I just haven't taken the time to tell you guys. Have another laugh on me -
The Berlin Marathon was my second maathon and I ran both within 4 months of each other. I really wanted to take time off of that first race in Prague. Bobbi and I got up together, ate, traveled to the line up area, checked out people (she has a fabulous story about this process) and waited for nature to work. All was good. We finally got to line up with 40,000 of our new friends. I was ready but nervous as hell. The gun went off and I reached down to flip my Ipod on...nothing! NO MUSIC?! I can't run 26.2 miles without my music! No, for real, I can not run 26.2 miles without my music, somebody get my music! I panicked. Then, I had a come to Jesus moment with myself. I had trained for months, spent a lot of money for entry fees (45 Euros and no tshirt included!), flights, rooms food etc., and there are a lot of people expecting me to see this through. In other words, I put my family thorough a lot to just quit over music. How embarrassing..."I'm sorry, I know that all of you supported me and we spent lots of time and money, but I really don't want to do this now because my music doesn't work." Yeah, I am not willing to give in that easily. So, I took a deep breath, called myself a weenie and dug deep for 26.2 miles. I did take 9 minutes off my old time, but I did not make my goal time. When I crossed the finish line and finally found Pete and Ian, I was a bit dissapointed and frustrated. They were so excited for me. I admitted I was dissapointed and that my music didn't work and I just know that I could have done better. As I was getting the lecture about how I did do a better time and I just finished another marathon, something many people will never do in their life even one time and at a pace that most would kill for, Ian looked down at my Ipod and said, "mom, you just had it on lock." He flipped the switch and music filled the air. How stupid! Now, if I had not been so hell bent and stopped for 1 minute, I would have figured that out for myself and probably would have done a better time, but most importantly, I would have had more fun. What an idiot. Lesson learned: do a music check before gun, have friends remind you of how incompetent you can be and check your stuff for you, no time is lost if you have to stop for a minute and readjust, most likely, time is gained.

With that, I am off to the gym.