A year ago, I was very prepared to run a half marathon. And I did it! After eight months of consistent running through snow, ice, humidity, rain, fog, etc I had built up my running skillz (ha) and completed an item on my bucket list. I felt very accomplished. My family was proud of me. I felt strong and happy.
Fast forward a year, I ran home from our mechanic (4.5 miles) yesterday and it was plain hard. I mostly ran it/jogged it. I listened to conference talks and music. I stopped and walked with a sweet old lady for a block. It was very fulfilling. But it was hard to face the facts that there was no way I could run a half marathon today, tomorrow or a week from now. All that hard work had disappeared.
After the two miscarriages, I had let my running fall to the side. I was sad. I had a hard time. I didn’t feel motivated to run, let alone walk. The physical recovery was difficult. It was hard to see that yesterday. It was frustrating. But it was also empowering. I had done it before.
I could do it again.
And I would do it again.
I don’t know that I will specifically train for a half marathon again. It is a lot of work and commitment. It’s hard and summer is brutally humid, even at 6 am. My running friend Sheila told me about a 16 mile trail run in October. That sounds amazing. I know I could be ready by then. And I will probably bawl my eyes out by the end of it because I will have reached another goal.
Especially after having the baby dream go away, maybe not forever, but for now. I guess life is about sucking it up sometimes, feeling the pain sometimes and moving forward all the time. Even though I had moved backwards. In college, I would run to stay in shape, more for physical reasons than anything else. But now I run to be mentally in shape and to be a good example for my family. Sure, it’s nice to have looser clothes. And I know I sound like one of those crazy runners who say that running is their sanity.
But it is.
I always go back to running. I love the solitude. I love disappearing in the woods, seeing amazing houses along the way and running up hard hills. I also love running down the hills because it’s easy. I love hearing the birds twittering and seeing squirrels chase each other. I love doing something hard and solitary.
For now, I will continue on this running journey because it truly is a journey. And I will see what comes. I know peace of mind will come. I know that strength will come. And I welcome them with open arms.