In 7 days, I’ll be running a 10k marathon. 7 days. I think I realized this sometime last week. I was talking to my husband about our plans to take a vacation in the first week of June and then it hit me: “The Marathon!” “How did I forget about the marathon!”
I haven’t been running much any more. Instead, I’ve been doing at-home workouts and walking, lots of walking.
So, considering this… I don’t think I’ll have that great of a time for my run. I KNOW I will not place. Well, I take that back, maybe I will place, but I wouldn’t be surprised at all if I didn’t.
This race represents something for me. At this moment in my life, this race is my personal test of commitment to something physical other than childbirth. It will be intense, like labor. It will take time, like labor.
To make it to the finish line, I must focus on my own steps. I know. I must focus on my breathing and dig deep to that same place I tapped into when I gave birth, that place of sheer determination and will and strength, unadulterated strength and desire to just go further.
I’m scared about this race, a bit. But more than being scared, I’m excited. I’m excited to be doing this to my body and that sense of accomplishment that I know will come…in the end. I’m excited about these, and, oh yeah, the free massages at the end.
When’s the last time you pushed yourself physically? What did that experience teach you about yourself and your strength?