As I look back over my training for the past several months, I see challenges, triumphs, excitement, disappointment, and the gamut of emotions. I have opened some doors. I have closed some doors. Some doors closed for me. My body decided I needed a hiatus, but didn’t bother to tell me it’d been harboring illness for months. My body healed, and yet, my lungs feel the challenge of that longwinded illness still.
I trained with a team. I trained solo. I trained in the rain. I trained in the flippin’ frigid cold, wind, and snow. I trained in the heat. I trained when I didn’t want to. I trained when I couldn’t run enough to get away from the stresses of my day. I trained when I was so tired I could cry. I trained when I didn’t feel good. I trained despite any excuses. I trained despite the weather. I trained because I had people relying on me to push them, to challenge them, to support them, to just be there because I SAID I WOULD.
I am a woman of my word. ALWAYS. I struggle with setbacks when it comes to running. Who am I kidding? I struggle with setbacks with anything, but particularly with running. A hard training season last summer made me angry enough to not want to stop training. My body knew better and I got sick to make me slow down. For whatever reason, as an adult, I battle with being able to breathe. No official diagnosis or label has been placed on it, but it’s been a struggle. I hate it. I just want to breathe and not suffer. I just want to run and not have to carry anything besides my nutrition to keep me going. My “lucky” inhaler comes with me everywhere now. It better be damn well lucky because I have three marathons to really, truly kick some butt at this year, and the first one is 4 days away.
I forgot my “lucky” inhaler tonight as I ran in the rain. I ran without it over the bridges on Great Neck. I ran soaking wet, splashing through puddles. I ran, and my lungs did what they could. I have feeling this is going to be a love/hate kind of relationship. I’m not big on this, but if it comes down to carrying that “lucky” inhaler at every single run so that I CAN run anytime I want to, then so be it. Once a runner, always a runner. I want to continue to run til the sand runs out.
Tonight’s bridge runs felt sluggish and soggy, but so goes it with tapering before a marathon. Nothing less than expected. Time to turn in for some sleep so the day of the marathon I can be ready to rock and roll.
A quick thank you to all of you who have trained with me, who have pushed me to keep going, who have sympathized with my frustrations, who have encouraged me, who have shown me the love and compassion I have needed to keep fighting for every step towards my dream of being at the start line at Boston. THANK YOU.
Live. Love. Run. Passionately!