On Saturday, my long run was 14 miles. A milestone (!) for two reasons. First, on my 14-miler last year my plantar faciitis reared up and sent me to the pool for three months. I was all kinds of superstitious about getting up to that distance, and I am so happy it went okay. I can now look forward to 15 miles this weekend.
You know, that didn't come out sounding so much like a good thing.
But the other reason that 14 miles is a big deal, at least in my little mind, is that it's a departure from the half marathon distance. You don't go out and run more than 13 unless you're planning something bigger. Anything over 13 and you're all in, baby!
And my box of Cliff goodies arrived in the mail yesterday -- the one I got as a bonus for signing up for the Cliff pace team for the Marine Corps Marathon. I didn't even realize that the tasty Cliff Bar was missing from my box until other RFRC members posted pictures of their own Cliff goodie boxes (one of the teenagers is known to enjoy a Cliff Bar).
The real sign of marathon training is how you get unbelievably tired at the end of the day. I was so sleepy last night that I went to bed with my contacts in, and woke up in the middle of the night thinking I had double conjunctivitis. And thus had to run this morning with my glasses on.