Today I finished a 25km trail run. One of the most painful I’ve run so far and I ran it this time last year as well. Glutton for punishment. I battled my way through it, but during those three hours I had a lot of time to think…
• I knew it was going to be a painful run…three kilometers in I was ready to ask one of the volunteers to double check the mileage…it already felt like ten.
• Early on I ran near a woman who was panting…about half way through I came across a larger man who was wheezing. I wondered if he knew he was since he was wearing a headset. I thought about telling him but then I realized…I was running with the seven dwarfs. All of the runners around me were one of them…Panty, Wheezy, Speedy, Trippy, Wontshutupy, Snotty, and Idontgiveashitty. And then I wondered…which one was I?
• I wrote my dad’s eulogy. Not sure why. He’s not sick. He’s off on a cruise in Barcelona right now actually…
• At the beginning of trail runs most people are excited, giving each other high fives and running in groups chatting and laughing. By the last five kilometers or so there is silence. Everyone desperately wants to get off the trail, get the medal around their necks and food in their bellies. A serious determination can be tasted in the air. Or desperation…maybe both…
And then suddenly I was only meters from the finishing line.
I honestly didn’t think my legs were going to get me there. I had fears of tripping over the finish line and diving face forward into the muck Infront of all those spectators.
But I made it. I crossed that finish line completely upright. And as I crossed that finish line I was reminded how strong and determined I am. That I can battle through pain and insecurities. That I am capable of everything I put my mind to. I felt…very close to being invincible. I was a super mom. A mom that can prove to her girls through action that anything is possible. That women can set their own pace. And that we can do anything we want.
I got my medal.
And I’m still in pain.
But it was a very good day.
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