There are now just nineteen days to go before these legs take me on a 13.1 mile journey through the streets of Cinncinnati, Ohio. I've been training for a half-marathon for the past two and half months and even though I'm a bit nervous about the upcoming event, I'm looking forward to race day. My personal goal is to run the course in two hours or less which I think is doable, but it'll depend on how I feel that day. I've read about the serious hills I'll encounter around Mile 5 which will more than likely impact my usual eight minute-mile pace, but perhaps I'll make up the time on a few of those lovely downhill slopes.
During some of my long training runs, I've often asked myself, "Why are you running this race?" Even with my favorite tunes playing through my iPod into my ears, I can hear the voice inside my head loud and clear. When you run long enough and travel a distance on foot that any rationally-minded person would just get in a car and drive to, the kind of conversations you have with yourself as you're huffing and puffing along become rather interesting. There have been plenty of times during those long runs when I've seriously considered my own sanity. Fortunately, there have been more times when I've experienced what is known as runner's high and over the last few weeks as my training runs have gotten longer (I ran ten and a half miles this past Friday), I've realized how much I enjoy that endorphin-producing, zen-like state of body and mind.
I'm not running just so I can get high (although I'll admit this is something I look forward to when it occurs around Mile 6 or so). I'm running because it inspires me and makes me feel good about myself. I'm running because I want to challenge myself physically. I'm running because it reminds me I'm capable of doing whatever it is I set my mind to doing. I'm running because come May 3, I will be amongst thousands of people who, like me, made the choice to run because it matters to them.
What if all the choices we made in our lives were made from that place of possibility and positive outlook? What if, despite our fears, doubts and worries, (or using a running metaphor - the blistered feet, chafed body parts and sore muscles) we all lived our lives (ran a race) as though everything about it was good? What if even during times of hardship and grief and when we're not feeling particularly brilliant (like Mile 10), we still make the choices we do because they make us feel MORE alive than were we not to make them? Yeah. That's why I'm running.
It's time to put on the running gear, apply a few band-aids to that blister, lace up those new shoes, and go live the day. Whatever choices you're making today, I hope you'll do the same.
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