OK, I admit it. I was wrong. I thought with proper time management Hubby and I could easily train for the half marathon.

Clearly I was smoking something.

When I told him I was going to do Chicago’s Rock N’ Roll Half Marathon, part of him wanted to join. I warned him that if he did, I’d be more bullish about my training than I was with the Shamrock Shuffle. Since the Shamrock was his first race, I pushed him hard to train, but didn’t do a great job of training myself.

This time, I said, I’d put myself first. In the beginning it was easy. I trained in the late morning, he trained once he got home from work. We did a few runs together on the weekends, but that didn’t always pan out because of a napping or screaming child and/or parent.

Then the runs got longer. The weather got warmer. Our legs weaker. (I had shin splints, he twisted his ankle.) Running ate up our weekends. We didn’t do the long runs together, so I’d leave to pound the pavement for 7, 8, 9 or 10 miles while he had the kids, then he’d hit the gym to do the same.

By the time we checked “Running” off our To Do list, more than half the day would be gone.

Then his job got busier and he wasn’t coming home until 8 p.m. or 9 p.m. After a 14 hour day, who has the energy to train?

We tried every schedule configuration to get in all our runs. I got up at 4:30 a.m., but my kids must have me Lojacked because they’d wake, protesting my escape. Later in the morning I’d take the kids in the double jogger, but I really can’t run much farther than 5ish miles in that thing before the kids get restless. (I’m *really* a slow runner, actually I’m more of a bouncy walker than an actual runner…) Not to mention, that contraption is heavy.

Hubby had spotty success at getting up at 4:30 a.m. to run, largely because he can’t seem to fall asleep before midnightish.

I’d take the kids to the gym’s daycare, but only get in a few miles on the dreadmill before the pager would beep because Ethan had blown a gasket.

As I was staring down the barrel of this half marathon, I began to obsessively complain to my BFF that I couldn’t get my runs in. She came up with an obvious solution. Hire a sitter.

Last week I did, and it was fabulous. She’s only here a few hours, but I got my weekday runs done. This week she’s coming two times as well and I’m looking forward to it.

Part of me wants to continue having her over for a couple hours each week, I mean imagine what I could do with that time. Mani, pedi, eyebrows threaded, massage and run errands like buying light bulbs, batteries or going to the post office. Alas, Hubby and I are watching our pennies, you know since I quit my job and that the economy’s in the tank.

The important thing is that the sitter’s here now, making it possible for me to eek in a few more good runs. Especially since in six days, I’ll hopefully be crossing the finish line in the upright position and ahead of the street sweepers.