I have started running again. It's been a few months now, and I am hooked. I hope I never let go this time. I have embraced my designated running days and have not let ANYTHING intervene. I have run while sick, in the dark at 5:00 a.m., and in the freezing cold (one day the wind chill was 11). I even ran in falling snow yesterday, on Christmas day. When I got home I had a lot of snowflakes piled up on my running vest and even a few in my eyelashes. It was great.
The Bossman is training for his first marathon, and I have no such aspirations. A few miles here and there is good enough for me. I completed a 5k on Thanksgiving and my next race will be an 8k in March. I do have a dream goal: There is a big "Ten-Miler" race here in the fall. I have wanted to do it for many years but have never managed to train successfully. I am hoping this will be my year.
Why do I run? Growing up, I was NOT an athlete. I was the tiny little kid who always got picked last for everyone's relay race teams in Phys Ed class. No matter how hard I tried, I was always the slowest one, and it was a constant source of embarrassment to me. Although I excelled in school and had plenty of friends, I always wished that just once I could be the one who came in first in a race. Now, I know I will never finish first or even place in a road race, but every time I cross the finish line and meet my own personal time goal, I feel like I have won that victory that I always wanted as a kid. That's what keeps me going.