Been down that road before. Seriously.

I've written about running before on this blog and I'm sure that some of my other posts were much more poetic than this one is going to be. Those that came before were probably written from the pleasant perspective of just having run a race or dreaming of the time when I could fly down a road feeling totally comfortable and making it look easy. I have come to find out that running is not easy for me.

Sometime in the middle of last summer I decided in my head that I would run a half-marathon sometime in the next year. This was coming at a point when I was barely making it three miles down the road. How I expected myself to pull off thirteen miles was beyond my comprehension, but somewhere in my head some part of my brain decided it was doable. This was the same part of my brain that says that springboard diving was a good idea. Yeah, it's gotten me into trouble before.

This year I decided to make good on my promise to myself and set my sights on running that half this fall. That was back in early June and I decided on the Wine Country Half-Marathon happening October 11th in Healdsburg. At the time, October seemed like an eternity away. I counted the weeks, planned out my schedule, and decided that I really was going to commit.

And so far I've done pretty good. I'm keeping to the plan, maintaining solid runs and squeezing more miles out of my body than I had previously thought possible. I've abandoned the idea of finishing with a time goal. I simply want to finish. I want to finish so bad that it's consuming me. I realized a few days ago that I am roughly six weeks from tee-off (so to speak) and I am partly excited but mostly scared out of my mind.

I know I'm preparing for it, but the distance so beyond me right now. Trying to do this on my own without any running partners is a challenge. I have to rely solely on my own determination to keep pushing when I want to quit. Tim said to me one morning as I was heading out the door that my mind will give out long before my body will. It's no surprise that I repeat that to myself when I'm feeling the mental pain and pushing myself.

I'll be happy when this is over. I can feel my body changing but I am still a little haunted by the person who's never done something like this before. I still feel like I'm biting off more than I can chew, that I really am destined to be the fat kid in the corner who gets picked last in gym and gets pounded with the dodgeballs anyways.

I don't know what lies beyond the half, but I'm willing to find out. I guess that's what keeps me going.