As I near my race date (6 days, people), I find myself pondering.
Why do I run? Am I crazy?
And I find that the answer is... Kind of. I'm only half crazy for now. And yet, I'm still hitting the pavement 4 days a week.
A year ago, I was done. I had hit the wall. I was literally burned out on running. And here I sit, a year later, fully excited for my coming race. I'm nervous, excited, and panicked. Can I really run 13 miles?! Of course I can. I've done it before. I'm fully trained. I can do this. But each time, I wonder at my own ability.
If you had asked me a decade ago, when I turned 30 if I'd be running half marathons when I turned 40, I would have laughed at you! And yet, today, I find that laughter is the best medicine.
I've had this theory for some time now: When running still brings you joy, you keep running. When you've lost the fun, you'll quit. So I give you this photo. My gift to you, dear reader. If you can't laugh like this on a race, no matter how long or short, you may have lost your joy. And if you've never found it, TRUST ME, it's out there. Waiting for you on the road to no where.
Lace up, my friend.