So here we go again. 18 weeks between now and the Brighton Marathon start line. 18 weeks of uphills and downhills, of good runs and bad runs, of aches, pains and soreness. 18 weeks of rain, wind, cold and snow. 18 weeks of the excitement of progress and the frustration of not going far enough, fast enough. 18 weeks of late nights and early mornings, of swearing at inconsiderate drivers (and cyclists, yes, especially the cyclists) and 18 weeks of losing myself in my thoughts and dreams while I run myself around Seattle and wherever else my travels take me, these coming months.

18 weeks of learning about myself, getting stronger, lighter (about 10lbs would do nicely), tighter, sharper, more active and more alive. 18 weeks of tempo runs and long runs, of cross training and yoga, of perfect tiredness and hot milky coffee after a long, cold weekend run.

More than anything, it’s 18 weeks of perfect joy, happiness and fun. 18 weeks until my most important start line ever.

Coming?