Back in February, I posted that I had registered for the Disneyland Half Marathon. That also ended up being one of my most recent blog posts... I'm nothing if not totally inconsistent. Consistently inconsistent, actually.
Anyway, with the Half Marathon in just 3 days, it's hard to sum up what these last almost 7 months have been for me. In all honesty, it has been a journey on which I never really knew what to expect, nor if I'd even reach the end. In February it was easy to click "Register" and dream lofty dreams of long Saturday runs and peaceful mornings with just the sound of my feet hitting the pavement {and of course Ice Ice Baby stroking my ear nubs}. But really, it was hard. And there were {many} times I really didn't know if I'd make it to September 2nd. A testy calf injury that crippled me for several weeks, for instance. That sucked.
But really, I am just thanking God. Because not too long ago, 4 miles seemed like an insurmountable obstacle. And when I finished that run, I had tears in my eyes and I was thanking Jesus for the strength every one of those steps required. I had done it. And I did 5 the next week, and so on. Every week has gotten harder and harder, but every week He gave me a little more strength to do a little bit more. And every time I've finished a long run in the upright position, I can't keep the smile from my face because holy cow, this might just happen. And somewhere along the way, those 4 and 5 mile runs that scared me so badly became warm-ups for my later, longer runs. And to later look at something that used to be so stinking daunting and see it now as some form of nothing... well that feels pretty darn good.
One thing I've learned? That I love running. It has become my passion. I am not good at it and good heavens I'll never be fast, but man I love it. I love that 2 days (and 30 minutes) before my 35th birthday, I'm sitting here anticipating a 13.1 mile run. Thirteen-point-freaking-one! I am more active today than I was all through my teen years or my 20's, and you know what? That feels freaking awesome. That I'm accomplishing something I never dreamed I could, and causes people to look at me like I'm crazy. Sure I was skinny before I had kids, but I wasn't fit. I was just a stick figure with no muscle and no shape. Now, halfway to my 70th birthday, I've got little-bitty muscles and am finally starting to eat like a grown up (okay so not all of it is good, haha! What I wouldn't give for some microwave S'mores right now!). I'm finding that truly nothing feels better than being on the road to fit, and I'm so thankful for an able body. God, thank you!
Tonight was my second nighttime run in this whole 6.5 months. I never knew what I was missing! Of course I've loved my early Saturday morning runs that take me uphill to a misty-covered golf course {minus the spiderwebs I relentlessly encounter- I do not love those}, and back down, passing friendly joggers on the way (and can I just say that nighttime walkers/runners are so not friendly? Holy crap, they look like they want to bite my head off for saying hi!). But nighttime is a whole 'nother ballgame. It's breezy and cool(er), I don't have to hassle with a hat or sunglasses, and I don't even have to be self-conscious that my fat pooch is sticking out of the top of my pants because hello! No one can see me! Though I'm pretty sure that tonight after I encountered some of those grouchy evening walkers, I rolled my eyes and laughed to myself, only to realize that the traffic sitting at that stoplight 5 feet away could very clearly see me, and most likely thought I had some form of Tourette's. Or better yet, multiple personalities. But no, it's not PMS time for me, so only one personality right now.
In just roughly 3 days, all you lovely souls will be sleeping soundly, and I'll be getting up at 3:30am to put on my rainbow colored tutu and make the trek from our hotel to the starting line. I would so appreciate prayer! Because it's still so scary when I think of running all the way from Disneyland to Angel Stadium and back! haha! One mile at a time, Melody. One mile at a time.
