I got into Chicago. Now what?

Recently my kids turned 3 and 5, I did my first trail race, turned 46 and got a surprise visit from my 21-year-old son. I'm still reading the same book I was two months ago, Finding the Dragon Lady.It's really good and I may even finish it some day. My house needs dusting and mopping, I need to get my bills and other important docs in order, register M-man for kindergarten, get some new running shoes, donate some stuff and figure out how my cat Reckless is able to drag a mylar balloon around by its string on all three floors of our house.

I only mention that last thing because he just wandered into the kitchen, with guess-what in his mouth. Who knew cats could do that?

But in all of this exciting news, I buried the lede: I got into the Chicago marathon.

Bring me some balloons, Reckless. Time to celebrate.

I actually don't want or plan to run Chicago, even though it's my hometown marathon. I've done it before. It costs $185. I threw up on I-80 last year about an hour after finishing the Omaha marathon. The idea of 26.2 miles of pounding on concrete is about as exciting as the April snowstorm that we got earlier this week. *meh*

What Chicago does is remind me that, um, I need to get my tail in gear about running and goals. I'm in a slump.

I did sessions of PT for my knee until the sessions ran out. I'm still doing my strengthening exercises and trying to get yoga in once a week. But things still feel wonky.

Therefore, my weekly running mileage is cat poo, maybe 20 miles a week at best.

My goal is still to do a 50K trail ultra this fall, after running a 25K last month that I just loved. I've figured out which race I will do.

Now I just need to find my mojo.

I will let the April 18 deadline to register for Chicago pass and find another way to spend that $185 I do not have lying around.

And while I'm catching up on housework and filing credit card statements, maybe I'll figure out my running plan for the year.

Or just read that book.