Training for an ultra means running. A lot of miles. It also means running behind.

Right now, I'm behind on laundry, dishes, and my war against the squirrels in my garden. I'm also behind on blogging my race reviews.

Two weeks after the midnight Loonies marathon, I headed back to Cookville, Tennessee for the Blister in the Sun Marathon on August 3. This race is awesome in it's old-school simplicity. You can't register online, you have to write an essay on why you want to run a race the director calls, "Suck ass conditions and a fun time." I honestly don't remember exactly what I wrote (we'll get to that later), but it must have worked, because I got this in my email:

Since I'm training for a triple marathon, one isn't enough.

It was 3:00 am. I was running around in circles. It was pouring rain. And I was seriously beginning to question my sanity. Which was exactly the point.

The Loonies Midnight Marathon in Livingston, TN starts at midnight and boasts the slogan "sleep is overrated."

Five loops through a school parking lot and a residential area make up the 26.2 mile course. There are a few rolling hills, but nothing compared to a typical training run in Atlanta. It should have been relatively easy for me.

It was like a scene from the 1990 movie 'Arachnophobia'. And it was my wedding day.

It was the twentieth time that morning I'd run through a spider web on the remote trails of Fort Mountain.  Except this web was extra sticky. I turned to brush it off, and saw a huge web over my shoulder. The more I tried to brush it off, the stickier it became. And just when I thought, "Where's the spider?!" My future husband yelled, "RUN!".

Go smell your Peachtree shoes.

Don't stick your face in there and take huge breath; I don't want you to pass out. Just a whiff.  Stinky? 

Don't be ashamed. The first step is acceptance. 

Here's the thing: most running shoes are made with a variety of man-made materials: canvas, rubber, foam, polyester. Those materials often absorb, and sometimes even promote, the bacteria that causes odor. 

Ironically, after all the rain preparations, the actual Peachtree itself was pretty much drizzle-less.

"The rain is coming, the rain is coming!" 

By Monday afternoon, it was echoing across Facebook, Twitter, and my cell phone. The message pushed passed the cold washcloth soothing my migraine to bring a smile. 

The rain is coming. On the 4th of July. For the world's largest 10k. 

Why the smile? I love running in the rain. There's nothing like a downpour to turn a rolling party into an all-out rain dance.

When you hear the words "Running Revolution", you might think about our dads that grabbed nylon shorts, cushy white shoes, and became American joggers. 

Wake up. We're in the middle of a much bigger running revolution. In 2012, 1.85 MILLION people finished a half marathon. That's a 4.9% rise from 2011(which still pales in comparison to the 24% jump between 2009 and 2010). 

Fun runs are popping up faster than I can count them: Color Runs, Glow Runs, Zombie Runs, Muddy Runs.

I'm tired of people telling me I don’t look like a runner.

I answer with:

a) You should see me in spandex.

b) Since I’m always in front of you, you only get the back view, from up front, I totally look like a runner

c) Neither do you

d) F#@* YOU

These days, I lean more and more towards choice “d” (except, of course, I’m too nice to say that).

A couple of years ago, I had joined a pace group in an upstate New York marathon.

If people say, “I love running”, they’re probably telling the truth.

If they say, “I love running ALL THE TIME”, they’re lying.

If I only ran on “good run days”, I’d never run.

Thursday, I returned home 13 hours after I left.  After the morning show, I headed north. I spent the day lugging my camera around hunting cicadas. The shoot went well, but it was a long ride and a late day.

And I had an hour of running ahead of me.

This is pretty typical for my mid-week runs.

I haven’t watched a Miss America contest in years.  My hair is too short, and my butt is too big, but I always felt I could nail the question portion. I know, I know. Given the performance in recent years, it’s really not saying much. But there’s still another obstacle between me and that tiara: I have no talent.

Well, I do have this one talent.

I can fall asleep at any time, any place, any situation. I can sleep for 5 minutes or 2 hours.

In July, I’ll run the AJC Peachtree Road Race 10K. I’m not training for it at all. 

In September, I’ll re-run the most difficult race of my life: the North Face Endurance Challenge 50K trail race. I’m training so much for it, my life has turned into a steady rhythm: Work, Run, Sleep. Repeat.

At first glance, the two races could not be more different:

The Peachtree draws 60,000.