I hadn't run much. My intentions were good, but my training calendar sure showed that intentions and real life can be very different.
"I'm just gonna run easy ... I'll probably be done around an hour and twenty five or so," I told my husband as he dropped me off before the race.
Race number, check. Tshirt, check. Port-o-potty line, check.
I lined up at the start and noticed no one was moving towards the front. I walked up. Right behind the women in sports bras and biker shorts. Right behind the women that obviously train more than I do. Right behind the women who were clearly going to win the race.
National anthem, check. Last minute warm-up, check.
And we're off. First mile in the 7:00's. Second mile in the 7:00's. And so on. My body wasn't prepared but my competitive nature was. Give it your all. Just keep going. No pain, no gain.
10 miles later I crossed the line with tears in my eyes. No air. No strength. I felt like fainting. I felt like vomitting. Never had I felt so terrible after a race.
But I did it.
I can do anything I put my mind to.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
"I just feel like exercising!" I exclaim to anyone and no one. "Why is it that when you plan to exercise, you try to put it off, but the days you plan to skip it, you want nothing more than to move?!"
So I ran.
Life can build up like a huge weight on your shoulders that is pressing down with so much force you feel like you are losing ground with every step. I run to lose that force, to make up that ground, to feel like nothing can get me down.
I took off. I ran. I smiled as the world passed me by. I was cold. I was out of breath. But most of all, I ran.