Six weeks of training culminated into two and a half hours of sweat, pain and emotions yesterday. While I'm not a rookie anymore, this half marathon meant just as much as the first.
In October I ran 13.1 miles to show myself I could. To focus on something healthy. To BE SOMETHING other than the Spokane socialite buzzing through the neon lights of downtown. For the six weeks prior, I trained hard. And I accomplished something I never thought I would.
But injury kept me from running for almost six months after that incredible day. It doesn't matter how hard you train, if you don't take care of your body, it won't take care of you.
When I quit drinking in late February, I knew I wanted another shot at a new high - the one you get three miles in after you slip on those dirty, worn in tennis shoes. I trained hard, this time focusing on my aches and pains. I started seeing a chiropractor. I started foam rolling. I'm ten pounds heavier than I was in October, though. And that extra weight really does make it harder to run. But I found that high. Night after night, long run after long run, that feeling is unmistakable. And worth every ache and pain.
Yesterday I set out to prove to myself once again that I can still accomplish anything I set my mind to. Yesterday I ran for my health. For my sobriety. For my Grandma who passed away a few days ago. For my parents who have stood by me on this journey to bettering myself. For my pup who has given my life new direction.
Yesterday I ran 13.1 miles with purpose. And you better believe I'll do it again.
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