The anticipation of running a marathon is like that of having a baby. Running a second or third marathon is like having your second or third child—you kinda know what to expect, but they are all a little different in their own way which brings on some uncertainty.
And emotions are high.
Things have been very disorganized lately. (hey, I'm a runner, I have the-need-to-have-structure quirkiness) Not only is the Boston Marathon right around the corner, but we are moving a week after we return. Too much at one time, right?
In yoga on Friday, our instructor (Sweat-Sister Rachel) asked us to recall the joy we have felt in the last 6 months . . . I drew a blank!
And it scared the sh** out of me.
What, no joy ! ? Think, think, think. All that came to mind was the stressful stuff . . .
Yesterday, after I figured out my carb load for the weekend, the choices of clothes (depending on the weather) I was going to race in, read through the B.A.A info—where to get my bib, what wave I'm in and what time to catch the bus to take me to the starting line)—I went for a run.
My pace was easy, thoughts of race day going through my mind—the thousands of runners, the energy, the 26.2 miles from Hopkinton to Boston.
And I felt pure joy.
This three mile run opened the flood gate to the joy, happiness and gratitude, I had felt, not only over the last 6 months, but throughout my life—with my husband, my kids, my parents, my sister, my friends and with my coach.
And I cried.
I am ready to give birth to this marathon!
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