Nine!

I did it! This morning I ran NINE WHOLE MILES at the park! Woo hoo!

You see, a few years ago the thought of running one whole mile was so overwhelming. I have asthma. And I’m a bit lazy. And running makes my body hurt. And I’m too busy. And I don’t really like it that much. And it’s usually too cold, or too hot, or I ate too big a lunch, or I had a coke. Hundreds of excuses of why I couldn’t run, didn’t have time to run, didn’t need to run.

And then I started to run.

Before today, the most I had ever done was somewhere between 7-8 miles, during my first unsuccessful half-marathon attempt. This morning, when my alarm went off at the ungodly hour of 6:45 (made worse after my late night rodeo adventure, which I will write about soon), all I wanted to do was hide under my covers and avoid the inevitable exercise. Again, my week was too hard, I am behind on my sleep, I felt a little dehydrated, and my body ached. I am so, so good at making excuses.

But my running buddy was waiting for me, and I couldn’t let him down, so I willed myself out of bed, in a daze somehow stumbled around my house, found my running shoes, and headed out the door.

And then it happened. The weather was absolutely beautiful. Cool and crisp. We started running, and we never stopped. It was one of the best runs I’ve had in months. I think it’s either that runner’s high people talk about, or maybe my body just goes numb and my brain turns to mush as I stare blankly at the endless sidewalk before me, and I stop noticing the pain. Either way, it felt great.

To celebrate, I got a giant latte and a cinnamon roll from one of my favorite coffee shops (Buon Giorno… yum), and now I’m sitting on my back porch, enjoying a quiet, cool morning, getting ready to tackle tomorrow’s Sunday School lesson.

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