Writer on the Run V

Thirty two kilometres later and I wanted to die or felt like I was anyway. I had been training on my treadmill and this was the last big training run before the big day. I was feeling emotional these days leading up to the run, but it was good emotion...like I was finally walking my talk. My son was meeting me in NYC for a few days and would be at the finish line watching me and I couldn't think of a better support for this accomplishment than him. My son has trained most of his life for football so I was proud to be the mom that ran and took my own athletic abilities seriously...regardless of how little I had. I have heard many people say that the person who starts the race is not the same person who finishes the race and I am excited to see how much further I evolve into my own person.

I stepped in the shower and cried, not because I was sad but because I knew that if I could run thirty two kilometres then I could run forty two and it's becoming very real. I don't view all my tears as sadness anymore...sometimes I just feel happy and it needs to come out...so I cry and enjoy the feels...