Since we're confessing, I'll take a turn. I'm terrified of the 10-miler. 10 miles seems so far. And long. I'll be out there for hours and that scares me. I'm afraid of not finishing. I'm afraid of being one of those people who crawl across the finish line. But I'm most afraid of getting to 8 miles and not being able to go any farther. I guess I'm afraid of failing at this.

It's all a head game, I know. I remember when 2 miles seemed long to me. Now, I don't feel like I got a good workout in unless I do 4. I think of all the people who have done half and full marathons. If they can do it, I can do it. I think of how much adrenaline I'll be pumping out from the anxiety, excitement, and fear I'll be feeling the day of the race, and I know that alone will help me finish.

I think two things scare me the most: 1) I've never run a race that far and 2) I know I'll be alone the entire time. If I had a buddy who was experienced and who ran at my pace, I think I'd feel much better. Everyone seems to be faster or slower than me though. I hope to run the 10-miler at a 10-minute pace. That's a lofty goal, but I think I can make it. Anybody out there shooting for 10 minute miles?

A scary thought popped in my head yesterday: Why am I doing this? I stopped dead in my tracks. It literally sucked the drive right out of me. It wasn't the rhetorical type question; it wasn't a review of my motivation; it was a sarcastic, doubting question. It really did scare me. I've never doubted myself when it comes to running.

As I walked a bit to chew this over in my mind, a woman ran past me. I'm almost always the only person out there running, if not the only person at all. So I was really surprised. And I looked at her back and thought, Hey! She's not allowed to pass me! I jumped up and took off after her and happily finished my run at a run instead of a walk.

Looking back, I think there was a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other! One was doubting; the other sent me a motivator. Funny how that works sometimes.