In 8 days, I’ll be crossing the start line at the Grandma’s Marathon in Duluth and it’s time for a confession: I may have bitten off more than I can chew…
It’s no secret, I love to run. In the past four years, I’ve:
- Logged more than 1,700 miles;
- Burned though 6 pairs of running shoes;
- Crossed the two lines at 7 half-marathons;
- Crossed the two lines at the Fargo Marathon in May of 2012;
- Ran in a dozen or so 5k, 8k and 10k races;
- Completed a Warrior Dash and a Mudman obstacle race; and,
- Have been, for the most part, injury free.
It hasn’t been easy. I don’t have the physique of a runner, let alone one of an athlete. More often than not, I labor through my long runs and often ask myself why I’m doing this. Up until now, I’ve always seemed to have the mental strength to overcome the negative self-talk and the perseverance to push through the pain and the fatigue.
This time, it’s different.
This time, the thought of crossing that first line scares me. In fact, I can’t seem to visualize myself crossing the second line.
What carried me through the last 8 miles of my first marathon was the sound of the crowd cheering on the runners who passed by them. I’m counting on the same thing in Duluth next weekend. In fact, I’m hoping the energy and loud cheering for the more than 10,000 runners on the course will carry me across the second line. Right now, right here I believe it’s the only way it will happen for me.
Be well and make it a great day!