13 more hours until I begin my first marathon.
There is a lot of fear in the space of anticipation. Fear of wondering what it is really like to push through the final miles. Fear of wondering what I am really made of. Although, I don't think I am afraid of failing. I think I am more afraid of what it is going to take to finish. It's hard to really know for sure though.
All I know is that I am feeling something very unpleasant inside.
I started training in June, when running a mile felt like torture. I will never forget one of those first early morning runs when I sat down on a rock feeling defeated before I even really started. I would I ever run 26.2 miles if I struggled to run 2 or 3? What did I sign myself up for? Why was I doing this?
I feel a little the same way today... just 13 hours away... only this time I have miles and miles of training behind me.. which is keeping me from coming completely undone.
"Try and keep trying until that which seems difficult seems possible." -President Uchdorf
A marathon before a few months ago seemed like something beyond my reach. It seemed like complete insanity. I guess the insanity part has not changed but the difference is that it is complete insanity that I am willingly walking running into.
And now after all those early mornings, after all those long runs, the hills, the aches and pains, and the mental battles,
I am here.
Here waiting to prove to myself that I can do anything that I set my mind and heart to. That I can accomplish something beyond what I thought I was capable of. Here's to hoping that I will become someone stronger. Here's to hoping that I can become someone I can be proud of. Here's to finishing 26.2 miles at age 26 and 2 months old... that's got to be some form of lucky mojo :)
