Saturday morning, bright and early, I ran about 17 or 18 miles along the beach.
It was a little tougher than last week. I ran at a faster pace and it was hotter outside. But I did it. I survived and walked away with a new appreciation for blisters or “hot spots,” as I have now come to understand that term.
About the time when I was getting really tired, and oddly cold, when I passed the place where just two weeks earlier I had given up and started walking, I kept running. Mostly because I was running with a friend and something about community makes it harder to give up. Ok, ok, ok … so it’s pride too. But it’s a good thing.
I took the kids to a birthday party in the afternoon and by the time I got home I just crashed. The cold that I had been holding off attacked full force and I went to bed at about 7 p.m., curled up in a pathetic little snot ball, enjoying the small luxuries of sheets and pillows.
Training for this marathon has been so much more than just running.
It has been about practicing – not just thinking about -- perseverance.
I like the feeling of flying fast, of feeling my legs moving. I think everyone who runs does. But it seems that for every “flying” moment there are so many persevering moments.
I’m resting today. Give me a few days and I’ll be looking forward to next week’s 20 mile run.