So far week 2 is going well. I have gotten in every training run and personal training session so far. My legs are still very tired from this past weekend and these short 6 mile morning runs are challenging. I hope it gets better soon, it has to, right?

If you’ve been following me for a while, you know that I love running with my group of friends. When I first started out it was just us the three of us. They talked while I grunted and gasped for air. They got me to mile one and eventually to mile 13.1.

And of course I was bit by the running bug and had to continue on to a 26.2. And this is when I met the infamous Six Pack. We trained throughout the Summer of 2012 together for our first marathons…well it was the first for all but one. We did it together…running sisterhood at its best…pushing each other, getting each other through horrible runs, and celebrating every good run – together.

After injuries and a new baby six packer, we became the Half Pack. The Six Pack still met for brunch and the occasional short run, but it was just the Half Pack training for the Marine Corps Marathon, still supporting each other through crappy runs and of course celebrating every little victory along the way to a second 26.2.

And then it became just me and my partner in crime pursuing a third 26.2 a month later and then eventually our first 50K ultramarathon together. It wouldn’t have been fun without her.

Now it has become this. Just me. Alone. Going for 50 miles.

I have only ran one long distance race on my own and have always trained with a group. This is will be the first time that it will be all me. Pushing myself to make sure I get in every training run, pushing myself to get through the tough runs and the hard parts of the upcoming race on my own, and celebrating my own little victories in quiet of my own head until I have the opportunity to tell someone about it.

All day the voice inside my head keeps telling me, “you’re on your own kid” and it scares me. Yes, my sole sisters will join me on training runs from time to time, but there’s no guarantee that they’ll always be there. They don’t have to be…it’s not their race.

I have to admit, it makes me very, very sad and I’m a little heartbroken about it. I have this image of me running with all of my sisters and slowly losing them one by one and I turn around and no one’s there. Only me and the sound of my feet, my heavy breathing, my heart. I know they will support me as I continue on this journey and I know they’ll be cheering me all the way through – I take comfort in that, but it’s not the same when you’re on your own.