Hooked

I’ve been in a vicious cycle lately of illness, work, homework, due dates, activities, etc. I’m trying to purposefully enjoy them (well, except for the illness part) but sometimes its hard when all I want to do is just sit at home and BE. Or write for my blog. Regardless, its time for an update. There have been many things I’ve wanted to write about, but the most pressing is of course, the ½ marathon I ran 2 Sundays ago. Other topics I’d like to update my blog on: my latest read, “Founding Sisters and the Nineteenth Amendment” by Eleanor Clift, my thoughts on my upcoming 5 year wedding anniversary, and why I love birthdays. But those will have to wait.

Go to this link first, then come back. Here I am, about to cross the finish line. I had a phenomenal pit crew: my husband, Benji, and my good friend Shalaun. They met me every 4 miles or so to cheer me on and snap pictures. Hopefully I’ll get those up in a few days.

Running 13.1 miles is one of the hardest things I have ever done. Around mile 6-7 I wanted to quit. I was cursing myself, wondering why in the world did I think was a good idea? But then something happened around mile 8…cloud cover in Dallas cooled things off a bit, I fell into a nice groove, and I actually smiled.

I am hooked on races, and let me tell you why. First, all the energy around the place is intense! All these people challenging themselves. A shirt that says “This is nothing compared to chemo.” Things like that make you feel like you’re in the middle of a lot of strength. Then there’s the run itself and its hard and challenging, and you feel all the people around you being challenged and you think “that’s discipline” and you sort of forget that you are a part of it, because everyone else is so entertaining.

But here is the kicker for me: I finally got to the finish line, where lots of cheering people stood and heard the deep-voiced announcer say, “And here comes Greta B! with a strong finish” and you run past the line, some kid cuts the timer off your shoe, and it just feels really great to not be running, but also great because you FINISHED.

So I am looking around for Shalaun and Benj and don’t see them. I grab a banana, down two water bottles, walk around a little looking for them, still enjoying myself. Finally I see Benj sprinting towards me. They’d gotten tied up parking the car because of a soccer festival and had missed the finish. He was heartbroken. I laughed. “No big deal!” I said. And we went on to have a great lunch and the rest of Sunday.

But, later, the “no big deal” hit me. I was thinking that at other times/situations in my life, I would have been really disappointed that no one was cheering for me at the finish line, that my friends missed it, that I was alone. But it really didn’t matter. I wasn’t running to be thinner, I wasn’t obsessing about my body, I wasn’t running to look cute, I wasn’t running for anyone else. I wanted to challenge myself and my body and see what I was made of. I was running for me. And it felt incredible. Hooked.