I have always loved running. I picked this sport as a 7thgrader because honestly I wasn’t good at many sports, and this one had the autonomy I needed. I ran, and I ran for me…of course in Jr. High and High school you would get caught up in placing, but still, I ran for me and me alone.
This was the one place I could be with myself in my head, inviting no one, and relishing in every thought I had or didn’t want to have. I could push thoughts back, or push them to the forefront where I would deal, delve and devise plans for my success. I was on the road, trails, treadmill or track and no matter the venue the run was mine alone.
I didn’t run distance for the better part of my 20 years in the Air Force. 3 miles here, 7 miles there, but nothing to really get excited about until 2007 when I trained ‘quickly’ for my first ½ marathon. I finished, and proudly strong…
Now, well, to now…
I have been training since December of last year. I started very small, and worked my way up to running to ½ marathons. One turned out terrible, and the second I redeemed myself with a 2:11 PR.
This week is the last week before my Chicago full. My 26.2 miles. And I am so proud of all I have done, and all I have achieved.
I watched “The Spirit of the Marathon” sent by my sister…and I cried. Heck, I have been crying for a few days now. My emotions are at an all time high. Heck, what will I talk about after this?
Thank you, to you all…my 54 followers, my readers from facebook, and my family. I am in awe.