I’m running a race on Sunday. I’m rather scared out of my wits. In February, I signed up for a half marathon. I asked Anna to run this with me. She so kindly said yes, and she’s been training her heart out. I, on the other hand, didn’t train as well as I wanted to and I’m very nervous about how things will go on Sunday.
I had to make peace with the fact that I’ll be running and walking. I know, I know, it’s not a bad thing, but when I signed up for this, I really hoped that I would be able to train to run it. I fear how my body will react to the mileage. Everything from my side, to my hips, to my knees, to my toes, to blisters on my feet. I fear this.
Do all runners have these fears right before a race? I think they have some fears, but most of them have trained and know how their body will react. We’ll see.
My friend Sandy ran a half a few weeks ago and said she hadn’t trained at all. She said she ran/walked and finished. My goal is to finish. And then I will sign up for another race and will train and will run it. I’m determined to do this. Why? I don’t know. Before I got pregnant I thought running long distance was ridiculous. Then I had Mathilda, gained stupid weight the first year of her life, and I said to myself that I will do anything it takes to lose this baby weight. So I signed up for a half marathon. I even signed up for the NYC marathon (but didn’t get in – whew – good thing). I lost some weight, can actually wear my old jeans again, but in February, I had a completely different vision of what the state of my body would be like today compared to what it actually is. I’m rather disappointed.
Sunday will be a challenge. I don’t know how ready I am. I’m nervous. We’ll see how it goes.
I’ll keep you posted.
I was looking at someone’s profile picture on Facebook just a few minutes ago and I thought, “Are you happy? Are you truly happy?” I often wonder how many people in my life would tell me how they truly feel. How they are truly doing.
Do people wonder how I am? Do they take my smile and exuberant attitude as the answer that my life is grand? Do they ever wonder what goes on deep down in my heart; either be it with God or school or work or marriage or motherhood? Do they want my nitty gritty answers or is my smile sufficient?
I’m curious how many people on this planet are on the same page, but we’re all just too afraid to be that honest with ourselves or with each other to want to know the answer.
I was sitting at work in Grand Rapids, Michigan, when Kristi Burghart came to my desk and asked me for my radio because a plane had just hit one of the trade towers. What? What happened? We all turned on radios, and on all 4 floors of that phone company you could hear the news. No one talked. We all just listened. We all worked the rest of the day and listened. I got home and watched the news. Same pictures and stories over and over, but I couldn’t turn away.
The theatre company I was involved in at the time was running its week of dress rehearsal before we were to open Snoopy: The Musical on Friday night. I had been crying at home, I was crying while driving to the theatre, and all of us were in a very somber mood at the theatre. How were we supposed to sing fun, happy Charlie Brown songs on this day? It was our accompanist who started playing God Bless America and we all chimed in. We all sang our hearts out. We talked about it. Those of us who wanted to pray prayed. It was rather therapeutic.
We opened the show that weekend, and I can’t tell you how many people said that it was nice to end the week on such a good note.
I won’t forget that day.