The One in Which a Good Run Equals a Temporary Lapse in Judgement

So I did something mildly rash two days ago.  I registered myself for a half-marathon.  In less than a month.

Let's all pause for a moment to ask, "WHAT THE EFFING EFF WAS I THINKING?"

Ok. Let's continue.

My original plan was to very sloooooowly ramp up my mileage (dutifully following the 10% rule) and run my first half in July.  I went on a trail run this weekend, planning on completely 6 or 7 miles and somehow ended up running almost 11.  What can I say?  It was a beautiful day, it was the first dry trail I'd seen in months and I was running with some new running buddies and the conversation was good. 

Anyhow, one of them clued me in to this great half-marathon taking place next month only an hour a way.  Its a gorgeous course, at a gorgeous time of year.  And dudes, the finish line for the thing is at the New Belgium Brewery. 

So here's my plan:  I'm going to (as gently as possible) ramp up my mileage in the next 3 weeks while cross and strength training and doing my darndest to avoid an overuse injury.  Good nutrition, rest, etc. and I should be ok right?  What are rules if not to be broken?

My boys (both the husband sized one and the 3 year old sized one) are being incredibly supportive although they may be secretly laughing at me behind my back.  They're tolerating the long weekend runs and my general complaints about soreness, tiredness etc. 

The kiddo is insistent that when he's big, he'll run a race with me and win.  We'll see, little boy.  We'll see.