[sick in bed today. no fun exercise. but i made arrangements to play some tennis next week.]
a short story.
as you might know i’m training for a half marathon.
it’s in three weeks.
and as i was running yesterday i thought a lot about it.
what it really means to me, you could say.
when i started i had no idea what i was getting myself into.
hard runs where i don’t think i can go any further.
lots and lots of time spent, simply running.
at first it was hard to go two miles.
but i signed up so i was doing this…
[it’s amazing what a 30 dollar sign up fee can do.]
dad would go with me to sego and back.
we did it a few times a week.
and then the first 5k.
it was awful.
[don’t run at midnight. and the starting be all uphill.]
but i kept at it.
there was the week i was sick that i didn’t think i’d ever get better to run.
and i remember going six miles.
that was the furthest i’d ever run. ever.
then there was the week i ran seven.
a bug flew in my eye.
and when i ran eight, marlee pulled me the last mile.
sometimes i talk to a lot of different people and they say,
“what’s your goal? …just to finish?”
i say, " yeah."
my goal is to finish.
but to me it’s so much more than just finishing.
this goal at times seems like it’s own miracle.
i’ve learned that i can do things i never would have thought possible.
i’ve learned that hard work pays off.
i’ve learned that if i set my mind to something i can do it.
so yes, if you ask me, my goal is to just finish.
but to me, just finishing this race means everything.