On Running

Last Sunday I ran in a race. Now, I wouldn't say I RAN the race, because after about 3.5 kilometers I might have started this fun alternate version of walk/running. But I was in the race, and completed the race. So that's nice.

Anyway. A tiny bit before I started walk/running, I was making a list in my mind of all the people who I needed to tell to keep an eye on me and do whatever was necessary to stop me from signing up for another race in my life ever. I mean, someone needs to control the crazy.

I was tired. My body was aching,  I was dying of thirst, and my head and heart were having a contest to see which could pound harder. So fun, right?

After I finished the race, I felt so proud. I wanted to document it, because I did something challenging. Sometimes it sucked a lot, but I finished. I met the difficulties and made it through. And I kind of want to do it again now that I know what it's like. Need to improve, yo.

I think I'm in that walk/running stage of the school year. I'm tired, my soul feels a little achy, I'm falling apart and it seems like EVERYTHING is competing for my attention.

There's a part of me that wants to say I can't do this again. I was crazy to sign up for this.


But I suppose there's also a part of me that can't wait to finish, to be able to say I did it, and that maybe it wasn't that bad. And I'm kind of excited to do it again and improve and all the things.

But first things first... finishing. I can do this.