I did it. It has been on my bucket list for years and I have toyed with the idea for years. Finally...I signed up. I committed myself. I set a goal and I'm going to see it through.
I am going to run a half marathon. August 24, 2013, at 7:00 am, in Logan, Utah...I am going to run a half marathon.
I am scared. S.C.A.R.E.D. Can I run 13.1 miles now? Nope. Not even close. I'm training...and I've been training...but I'm definitely on the beginner course of this journey. I don't think even I have any idea what I've gotten myself in to. But...I am going to do it.
I am not a runner...even when I run. It does not come naturally to me. I can't get off the couch and pound out six miles, like it is no big deal. I have to fight and claw and sweat and drag myself through my runs. I have to push myself to the brink of my pain, to add every mile...half mile...quarter mile. It is hard for me and I am jealous of the people, like my husband, Mr. Marathon, who make it look so easy.
So, why do it? Why put myself into a situation that will take months and months of my time? Why force myself to do something I'm not comfortable with and that will hurt?
Because I can. Because I want to prove to myself that I can do the impossible. Is 13.1 miles impossible? Well...not for everyone...but for me...it feels like it. I don't know how I will get there...from here...but I know that I will. The journey is foreign, but the destination is crossing the finish line, knowing that I pushed myself to new limits.