6 Days to Go...

... until I run that first marathon. I say first because I am sure it's not going to be the last. Unless I get struck by lightening or some other similarly hideous fate. Hey- you never know.

But I am really excited and am actually starting to feel a little anxious and nervous. Not really sure why the nerves are popping up. I've been training for months. The marathon  is being held where I do the majority of my running (if we don't count my basement). I'm not actually racing, but establishing a base time. Seeing what I can really do. More exciting than nerve inducing. The more I think about it, the more I think I may be digging my way to the base of why I am nervous about it....

... a promise I made to my Mom. A couple of weeks before she passed away, I shared with her that I wanted to run a marathon.  Did I already write about this? Will check later and edit if need be. But she supported me in this, even though I wasn't running at the time. Hadn't run since high school, which was a looong time ago. And in high school, I only ran in P.E. class. So it was a rather... ambitious goal. She thought it was a good idea. So I made a mental promise that I would keep my word and achieve this goal.

My Mom always told me that I could achieve anything in life if was willing to do the work and make the necessary sacrifices. With anything in life, there are sacrifices that have to be made. It's all about what you are willing to sacrifice. And why. Any time that I have truly applied this principal, it has worked. I do believe that there is nothing that I can't achieve, given the laws of physics and all that jazz. When I started running sixteen months ago, my goal was to run a marathon. To work myself up to the point of having enough endurance to do it.

I'm there. I'm ready a good 6 months before I was really planning to be. Am I pushing too hard too fast? Maybe. Do I think I can do it? I have no doubts. Will it be easy. Nope. But nothing ever is, really. Am I afraid of running the marathon?... No. I am not. I am afraid of being done. Of achieving this goal. Of completing that final step, crossing the finish line and then saying "now what?"

What I have to keep in sight is that I love running. I have found something I am truly passionate about. I'm not particularly fast and there is nothing special about me. But I have found something that grounds me and yet takes me to the moon and back. Something that I can totally lose myself in, and yet be completely in my own head. There will always be somewhere new to run. Great people to run with. New challenges ahead of me. I just need to keep setting goals and working my way toward them.  Running to them, with my arms wide open... just like I am running into the arms of the person that held me first.

I love you, Mom. And miss you each and every day.