Nothing left but the running

And the carbo-loading. And the hydrating. And the packet pickuping. And the nail trimming. And the sunscreen slathering. And the pre-emptive pooping. And the outfit picking. And the hair cutting (so I don’t look like a fluffy bunny in my marathon pictures).

In case you haven’t picked up on the hidden subtext of almost every freaking post I’ve made since April, I’m running my fourth marathon this Sunday. This is the second marathon I’ve run on behalf of the AIDS Marathon organization, and as I make my final preparations, I need to add one more gerund to the list above: The thanking.

People all over the country have given (to date) a total of $2,805 to sponsor me. Most of you I know. And if I have your addresses and you haven’t received your thank-you notes from me, they should be in your mailboxes today.

But there are about 10 names on my donor list I don’t recognize. Which I assume are some of the generous readers of this here blog thing. And since the AIDS Marathon web site gives me only names and donation amounts for my sponsors, the only way I can thank you strangers is through a blog post. So thank you. Your generosity both to me and to the countless people living with HIV and AIDS is touching. I will carry all your names—along with the stories some of you have shared—with me as I run this Sunday.

You-all can continue (ahem) sponsoring me for a couple more months if you want. But in the mean time, I want to list everyone who’s made donations to date. You people truly rock:

JaneAnne P.
David L.
Bill L.
Jerry G.
Jennifer D.
Craig N.
Gare U.
Jane H.
Hope M.
Stephanie G.
Catherine Y.
Stephen M.
Brandon V.
Rad S.
Danelle F.
Lou D.
Peter S.
Frankie M.
Nick & Kay G.
Mikey T.
Eric W.
Julia D.
Amy M.
Richard N.
Pat M.
Gingie H.
Sue A.
Sonelius K-S.
Andy T.
Jay H.
Jeffrey R.
Tamina P.
Chad R-P.
Dominic G.
John D.
Dan B.

After a summer of relatively mild training weather, we are now supposed to have demoralizingly hot, muggy weather for the marathon. But once in a while weather.com changes its mind and says we’ll have rain. Whee. In any case, I’m still psyched, and I can’t wait to share 26.2 glorious miles with 45,000 runners and a million cheering spectators.

Think of me this Sunday from about 8:10 am CT (when I should have slogged through the crowd to cross the start line) and 12:10 pm CT (when I hope hope hope hope hope to cross the finish line and finally beat my 4-hour marathon goal).

And think of my awesome fiancé as he pounds out his first marathon. He runs at a slower pace, so we won’t be marathoning together. But I’ll be waiting to celebrate with him as he crosses the finish line.

And then be sure to come back next week to relive the whole adventure in stories and pictures with me.